


A Night We'll Never Remember (And A Moment We'll Never Forget)

by halfsweet



Series: Parenthood AU [1]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mpreg, One Night Stands, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:59:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7884862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where a quarter of the male population can get pregnant, Brendon just had to knock one up in a drunken one night stand.</p><p>-</p><p>"I can't! Dude, look at me!" Brendon waves his hands around wildly. "I'm still studying! I'm not ready to have this kind of commitment! I barely even know you, let alone love you!"</p><p>Patrick crosses his arms and scoffs, his shy appearance instantly diminished to form his infamous bitchy expression. "Why don't you sit down and give your mind a rest over there? The feeling's mutual."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night We'll Never Remember (And A Moment We'll Never Forget)

**Author's Note:**

> Every ship has at least one mpreg fic and I am appalled that Brentrick doesn't have one. 
> 
> If you've been wondering why I've been missing, this is it. This took me a month to complete it (Kudos to ladymystery for the idea!)
> 
> Without further ado, I present to you the longest fic and one shot I've ever written! I shit you not this is supposed to be 10k

"You coming to the party this Friday night?"

Brendon looks up from his laptop screen to his roommate, a freshman, one eyebrow raised. "Dude. The _whole_ campus is going."

Tyler flushes at his answer and looks down. "Oh. O- Okay."

The room falls into silence after that, and Brendon continues to observe his roommate fidgeting around in his chair. He doesn't get why Tyler is always scared or nervous around him, even though they've been roommates for almost two months now. Sure, he's already a senior, but it's not like he eats freshmen for breakfast or anything.

"What about you?" Brendon asks him back, glancing back to his laptop and trying to find his long lost motivation to finish his assignment that is due in two hours. "You coming?"

"I don't think so. All my siblings are going home, so I'm gonna head home too."

Speaking of home, when was the last time he called his mother? She must have been worried sick that her youngest son, _also her most favourite_ , hasn't called her. He reminds himself to call her later in the day.

"Um, I know this sounds silly, but what's so big about the party? Everyone's been talking about it lately." Tyler continues, now fully turned in his seat so he can face Brendon.

"Because it's Pete's party." Brendon explains as he begins to do his assignment, deciding to just bullshit it till the end. He'd still get marks for turning it in anyway. "He's an alum here for, I don't know, seven years, I think. He used to throw big parties when he's a student here, and everyone loved his parties so much that he'd do it every year, even after he'd graduated. It's been a tradition since, but this one is his last. So you can bet it's going to be fucking _big_."

"Pete?"

Brendon chuckles at Tyler's obliviousness. "C'mon, man. Everyone knows who he is. Pete Wentz, the infamous DJ who plays at big clubs."

Tyler has a look of recognition on his face as he lets out a surprised _"Oh!"_. "No way! Seriously? _The_ Pete Wentz is an alum here? And this will be his _last_ party? Now I really wish I hadn't told my mom I'd be going back…"

"Don't worry about it. That motherfucker will just throw parties in clubs from now on. There's no way he'll give up on parties. He breathes in parties like he breathes in air." Brendon snickers at his own sentence. "But, yeah. It's a little sad that the tradition is ending."

"Mothe- you know him? Like, _personally?_ "

Brendon grins, ecstatic that he's almost reached the end page of his assignment. "Yeah. Who do you think has been helping him for the past few years? He needs someone to spread the word."

He silently cheers when he's finally done with his assignment and quickly submits it before he forgets to, then closes the lid of his laptop and throws himself on his bed, taking his second nap of the day.

Meanwhile, Tyler is still gaping at Brendon, unable to comprehend the fact that his _roommate_ is _friends_ with _The_ Pete Wentz.

-

Brendon wears his best combination of clothes for the party, which consists of a pair of dark jeans and black and grey long-sleeved hoodie shirt together with a beat-up Converse. He abandons his glasses in favour of contacts, and just before he leaves for the party, he ruffles his hair.

The party has already started by the time he arrives, and the place is just like he'd expected it to be- crowded. At least it's held in an open space at the football stadium, because with this insane amount of people, he already finds it warm and slightly difficult to breathe.

Loud music is booming from the speakers and the subs set, and he cranes his neck to search for his friends, or anyone he knows. Figuring that it's probably going to be a futile attempt, he makes a beeline to where the drinks are.

"Dude!"

He jumps slightly when he feels a hand on his shoulder, and when he turns around, his face breaks out into a grin. "Pete!"

"Glad to see you again, dude." Pete pulls him into a one-armed hug. When they pull away, he finally notices another person standing close to Pete with a scowl on his face.

"Oh, right! Brendon, meet Patrick." Pete beams as he pulls the person to his side, squeezing him. "The luckiest human ever who was granted the opportunity to be my best friend."

"Unluckiest is more like it." Patrick mutters under his breath and rolls his eyes, but sticks his hand out for a handshake. "Nice to meet you, Brendon." He smiles at him.

Brendon smiles back, shaking his hand. It's funny seeing this tiny bleached blond haired dude pissed off one second, then goes all smiley afterwards. "Pleasure's all mine."

The smile immediately drops off of Patrick's face when he turns to glare at Pete, his previous annoyed face back on. "Okay, now that we're all acquainted, I'm going back."

"Trick, come on. You need to live it up a little!"

"I do 'live it up a little'-" Patrick retorts, making air quotation marks with his hands. "-when I was at my place an hour ago."

"Watching movies is not the way, Patty."

"Don't call me that, asshole."

Pete throws his head back and laughs before patting Patrick's back and handing him a beer, then turns to Brendon. "Don't be fooled by his adorable little baby face. He's a fucking spitfire and will _literally_ spit fire if you cross his path."

"That's not how you use literally." Patrick grumbles before downing the cheap beer in one go and making a face after. Brendon thought it was cute. "This is terrible. God."

"It tastes better the more you drink it, though." Brendon shrugs, drinking his own beer and swallowing the horrendous taste.

"Yeah." Patrick snorts quietly as Pete hands him another one. "That's because you're too drunk to even realize it. Your taste buds aren't."

 _Sassy, too._ Brendon watches as Pete continues to supply Patrick with a few more cups. "Drink 'em all, Tricky. Let loose and go wild. You'll thank me someday." Pete claps his shoulder before nudging Brendon, getting his attention.

"And you, don't stress too much about your senior year or your break up with Ryan. Just have fun tonight." He grins and shoves Brendon a cup of beer, winking, "Trust me."

-

An hour and a half into the party, everyone's mostly wasted and inebriated, but still energized as they dance to the beat from the speakers. Brendon grabs one red solo cup and drinks it all in one gulp before crushing it and throwing it in random direction.

Dancing bodies are around him, all sweaty and glittery, but he's not complaining. He grabs the girl nearest to him and places his hands on her hips, and the girl throws him a seductive smile before twerking against him.

Someone hands him another beer, and he lets go of one hand to grab it. The music that Pete's playing gets everyone all hot and pumped up. Everywhere Brendon sees, everyone is either making out or humping and having dry sex with one another.

The party suddenly becomes less like a party and more like an orgy.

He spots Patrick nearby with some other strangers, shirt sticking to his body and drenched in sweat, a playful smile on his lips and flirtatious glint in his eyes. Brendon can't keep his eyes off of him, especially with the way Patrick is moving his body and hips.

Compared to the goody-two-shoes persona Patrick had on earlier, this Patrick is the complete opposite. He's like the reincarnation of the Demon of Lust; able to lure people into his trap with just a glance of his eyes or a small quirk of his lips.

And Brendon isn't excluded on that list.

Patrick catches his gaze and bites his lips, smirking. That's enough of an invitation for Brendon to quickly slink his way to him- like a moth drawn to a flame. He's the small lost moth in the crowd, and Patrick's the brightest flame in the area.

_And hottest._

It has to be illegal or a sin for Patrick to move his hips like that. Brendon doesn't even need to try hard to pretend that Patrick's putting on a show just for him, minus the extra people in the background.

He's standing behind Patrick now, rubbing his body against Patrick's to the beat. His hands run up and down Patrick's sides before settling on his hips, gripping tight and pulling towards him.

Patrick tilts his head back as another smirk grazes his lips. He twists his body around, nosing along Brendon's neck until he reaches the ear.

And _damn._ Brendon may not understand French, but he's got a pretty good idea at what Patrick's whispering in his ear right now, and fuck if it isn't the hottest thing ever. He licks a hot stripe right up the side of Patrick's neck, enjoying the shiver and the breathy moan the other man gives.

"My roommate's out. Wanna head back to my room?" Brendon whispers as he sinks his teeth gently on the skin just below his ear, eliciting another moan.

"Y- Yeah." Patrick breathes out, grinding his hips against the taller boy. Brendon hisses at the friction and refrains himself from taking him then and there. "C'mon."

-

Brendon is alone in the room after he gets back from his class. Tyler won't be back until late in the evening since his schedule is packed the entire day, and Brendon almost feels sorry for him. He faced the same struggle when he was a freshman.

Just as he's about to shower, there's a knock on the door. He tosses the towel on his bed and opens the door, surprised when he sees who's at the door.

"Uh, Patrick, right?" Brendon scratches his head, hoping that he doesn't get the name wrong. The last time Brendon saw him was when they're in his room a month ago, ditching Pete's party together. His memories of that night might be blurry, but he knows a good night when he had one, and boy was that night _mind-blowing._

Patrick nods at his question, looking uneasy and anxious. Brendon invites him inside and gestures for him to sit, but he just shakes his head. _Weird._ Patrick wasn't this quiet or nervous when they first met.

"Can I get you anything? Cheap beer? Cheap coffee?" He asks as he rummages through his mini-fridge that he snuck in when he was a sophomore.

That draws a small laugh out of Patrick, and it just might be the sweetest sound Brendon has ever heard. _Where has Pete been keeping him all this time?_ "No thanks. I'm, uh, I'm trying to avoid them."

Brendon closes the mini-fridge before raising an eyebrow, puzzled by his answer. "Okay. Well, what are you doing here? I'm surprised you remembered where my room is."

"I asked Pete." Patrick mumbles, cheeks rosy red in embarrassment, then looks up at him with a serious glint in his eyes. "Anyway, I need to tell you something."

He gulps at the sentence as a heavy feeling sinks in his stomach. "Oh my God, you- you don't have STDs, do you?"

"No!" Patrick glowers, eyebrows furrowing. "I'm clean. What the fuck?"

Ah. There's the same 'ol pissy Patrick Brendon remembers so much. Although, not as much as he remembers the drunk Patrick. He wants to meet that Patrick again.

"Well then, what is it?" Brendon asks as leans against his desk and crosses his arms, Patrick standing in the middle of the room.

"So, um-" Patrick stutters, looking down as his face regains back the previous shade of red that he had on a minute ago. "-uh, how- how much do you know about carriers?"

That's a weird question, Brendon muses, but he answers the question nonetheless. "Just that guys who can get pregnant. That's all I know, though. What's up?"

Patrick fidgets on his spot and chews on his bottom lip, lost in thought. Brendon remembers doing the same thing to him, and he definitely remembers those luscious pair of lips wrapped around his-

"I'm a carrier."

The three words are like a blow to Brendon's gut when he works out the hidden meaning behind them. "No. No way. No. _No_." He begs for the other to say otherwise, his eyes bulging in panic.

"Y- yeah." Patrick affirms as his shoulders become tense, his face creased with tension. "I went for a check-up last week, and it's positive."

Brendon is hyperventilating by this point, almost fainting. This can't be happening. It was just a simple one night stand. _People don't get pregnant from a one night stand._

"Thought you deserve to know about this. Maybe you'd want to, um, _raise_ the baby? Together?" Patrick's voice turns meek as he shifts his feet in what Brendon assumes is embarrassment, and if the situation were any different, Brendon would've gone all heart-eyed on this small blond dude, but no. _No._

"I can't! Dude, look at me!" Brendon waves his hands around wildly. "I'm still studying! I'm not ready to have this kind of commitment! I barely even know you, let alone love you!"

Patrick crosses his arms and scoffs, his shy appearance instantly diminished to form his infamous bitchy expression. "Why don't you sit down and give your mind a rest over there? The feeling's mutual."

"Sorry, sorry." Brendon takes a few deep breaths to regain his composure, but fails. "Are you sure it's mine?" He rakes his fingers through his hair, getting more and more anxious on the matter. "Maybe it's someone else's-"

Before he can finish his sentence, a loud smack echoes against the wall. Brendon places a hand on his cheek, feeling the skin getting warm, and turns his head to look at the shorter man in front of him, eyes widening in surprise.

Patrick's face is burning red, and it doesn't take a genius to know that he's livid. Okay, maybe he's wrong for saying that. Brendon opens his mouth again to clarify himself, but when he looks down, something else comes out instead.

"Did you just _stand on your toes_ to slap me?"

He winces when Patrick screams in his face and refrains himself from covering his ears. For such a small dude, he's got quite a pair of lungs. And Brendon actually counts the seconds until Patrick stops screaming.

 _Fifteen seconds. Wow._ He can't even hold his breath that long.

"You know what? Coming here is a mistake. I don't need you to raise this baby." Patrick spits in fury. "You can go screw yourself. Have a nice day. Scratch that, have a _decent_ day. You don't deserve a nice day."

When Patrick slams the door shut behind him, Brendon stands in the middle of the room rubbing his reddened cheek, dumbfounded at how everyone on the whole floor doesn't seem to hear Patrick's screaming tantrum.

Well, Pete was right. Despite his baby face, Patrick's certainly one hell of a spitfire.

-

Brendon was glad. Keyword being _was._ After Patrick's last visit, he hasn't seen him since. It took him around a week for his mind to wrap around two things: one, that he knocked someone up -and that someone being _Pete Wentz's best friend_ \- and two, that he's free from any duties and responsibilities.

So, that's what he felt. Glad. Relieved. He was able to focus on the last two weeks of the semester, able to focus on his finals, able to have fun on Christmas with his friends and family guilt-free and duty-free.

But now, as he sits alone in a diner sipping on his hot chocolate, he can't help the slight pang of loneliness he feels when a group of families sit at a table by the window.

The family is just like any typical family Brendon sees on TV shows- a father, a mother, a possibly five years old brother and a baby. The brother is asking his father questions every few seconds, like _"What's that huge thing at the corner?" "What's a jukebox?" "How does it play songs?" "Why does it play songs when you put coins in them?"_. The father answers his questions one by one with patience and vigor, not seemingly at all bothered by any of them.

The mother is placing the baby on a high-chair and makes funny faces to the baby, who squeals and giggles and rocks back and forth merrily. And when they're eating their meal, the parents would make sure that the boy doesn't eat messily. They would even take turns feeding the baby, wiping the baby's mouth when the food got smeared.

Their table is filled with laughter and happiness that spreads around the whole family. Brendon looks back to his half-empty cup.

He wants to have a family like that, too.

 _You could have if you didn't freak out on Patrick before_ , his mind quips in. Patrick. Patrick is pregnant with his kid. _His._

He knows he screwed up when Patrick told him about his pregnancy, but it wasn't like he was lying. He doesn't know Patrick on a personal level, and he isn't ready for any kind of relationship commitment, and…

…and there's no way he's going to let the baby grow up their whole life wondering who their other parent is.

After finishing off his drink and paying for it, he quickly pulls out his phone, calling the only person who can get in contact with Patrick.

"Hey, Pete? I need your help."

-

Brendon quickly walks over to a booth as soon as he spots Pete when he walks into the restaurant, sitting across him. Pete looks up from his phone, raising his eyebrows. "Hey. You look like a mess."

"Yeah, thanks." Brendon fixes his hair and bounces his legs to ease his anxiety. "So, um, is- is Patrick coming?"

Pete hums in affirmation and puts his phone away, arms crossed on the table as he stares at Brendon, not saying anything. Brendon fidgets in his seat, feeling the knot in his stomach double in size. A waiter comes to their table to take their orders, to which Pete orders a coffee for himself, and Brendon a glass of water.

They fall into silence after that with Pete giving him a long, fixed look. He knows that Pete wants him to say something first, but he doesn't know what to say. He drums his fingers on the table, trying to gain some courage to speak up.

Two minutes pass by, and the waiter places their drinks on the table before leaving. Brendon takes a sip of his drink just as Pete finally breaks the silence between them.

"You know, you still haven't told me why you needed to see Patrick again."

Brendon chokes on his drink. He doubles over the table and starts coughing, rubbing his chest until the coughing dies down. When he looks up, Pete is staring at him expectantly.

"I, um. Uh-" Brendon clears his throat and tries to form words in his brain, knowing that Pete wants him to address the elephant in the room first. "He- he seems like, uh, a cool guy when I met him, but I, um, forgot to get his phone number." He looks at his fingers, hoping that Pete buys his feeble lie.

"Oh, you guys talked?" Pete tilts his head, plastering on a fake confused look on his face. "What did you talk about? I didn't know you spent the _whole_ night with each other."

Brendon flinches at the last sentence and cracks a nervous smile at Pete. His mind is screaming _'We're gonna die! Pete knows, and we're gonna die! Just tell him the truth!'_ , but his brain is already fried from all the jitters. Dead and gone. Leaving him to fend for himself.

"Y- Yeah." He winces when his voice cracks. He swallows nervously, only to find out that his throat is as dry as sandpaper. "We, uh, we talked about a lot of things."

Pete hums and nods. "Patrick can be a good conversationalist if you get him in the mood. Did you talk about life?"

"Like I said, a- a lot of things. It- it was a pretty deep talk." Brendon stammers and decides to just go along with wherever Pete is going. He darts his eyes nervously to meet Pete's, then quickly glances back down to his lap, fingers twitching.

"Deep enough to get pregnant?"

 _And there it is._ Brendon sighs in defeat and droops his shoulders, body sliding down the seat as he looks up in apology at Pete, who has a smirk on his face. "Patrick told you, didn't he?"

Pete stretches his arms above his head and drinks his coffee. "And begged me to come with him for check-up. I've never seen him that terrified, dude. I had to give him a sleeping pill just to get him to sleep."

Brendon feels even more guilty now. Between the two of them, of course Patrick should be the one who freaked out, not him. Patrick is the one who's pregnant, not him. Patrick is the one who's affected the most about it, not him.

"Did- did he tell you what happened when he told me about it?" Brendon asks quietly, even though he already knows that Patrick probably told Pete everything.

He slouches down his seat when he hears Pete sigh deeply. "Look, I'm just gonna be totally honest with you. Patrick's mad as fuck at you for even suggesting that the baby's not yours. And if you weren't my friend, you'd be in the hospital by now."

"M'sorry…" Brendon mumbles, resting his head on his folded arms on the table. His guilt has quadrupled in size, probably bigger, and it consumes him whole. "I just panicked."

"I get it. You're scared. You're not ready for this." Pete continues, his sympathetic voice calms Brendon slightly. He tilts his head up, chin in his hands, and sees Pete smiling at him before turning serious again. "But you also need to own up to what you did. This whole thing isn't just your fault. Patrick's at fault, too. You didn't use protection, and he didn't tell you that he's a carrier."

Brendon draws circles on the table with his finger. They were both too drunk off their asses to even remember those things. He looks back up to Pete. "Did Patrick get mad at you for saying that it's also his fault?"

Pete breaks out into laughter and shakes his head. "He screamed in my face and ignored me for, like, two hours until he called me to buy something for his cravings."

So, Patrick's cravings have already started. Brendon's missed out about a month of the baby's progress. He wants to be there from the first month…

"By the way, you haven't told me why you wanted to meet him again."

Brendon just sighs. "I've decided I want to raise the baby. It's not fair to the baby or Patrick, so I want to apologize to him and tell him that."

"That's great, man." Pete beams, reaching forward to pat his hand in encouragement, but instead of feeling motivated, Brendon feels down. "But I don't think he'll let me anywhere near him…"

"Listen, Patrick may seem tough, sure, but I know him better than anyone. Even better than he knows himself. You just gotta give him some time and space."

"Patrick already does that for me." Brendon groans in despair, banging his head against the table. "He doesn't want to see me ever again."

"Trust me, once you get to know him, underneath all that false bravado, he's nothing but rainbows and butterflies and sunshine." Pete says, his voice taking on an excited lilt starting in the middle of his sentence. _Sounds impossible._ Brendon raises his head from where it's planted on the table and notices that the other man is grinning in the direction behind him. He sneaks a peek from over his shoulder, and his heart starts to race when he spots Patrick by the door. He slides further down in his seat, hoping that Patrick doesn't see him.

Pete gives him an amused look before glancing up again. "Trick! Over here!" He waves his hand.

"Pete!" Patrick smiles when he reaches the table, not noticing Brendon sitting just behind him and across Pete. Brendon just keeps quiet, observing the blond man.

"Pete! Pete! Guess what?" Patrick beams, bouncing in excitement and fixing the scarf around his neck. Brendon feels a little depressed watching Patrick this happy around Pete, knowing that his excitement would immediately disappear as soon as he realizes Brendon is sitting there with them.

"What is it?" Pete asks, propping his elbow up on the table.

"Right, so, I went for the check-up today-"

"Wait-" Pete stops him and frowns. "That's today? Why didn't you tell me? I could go with you."

Brendon looks down at his lap, feeling heavy-hearted. _Great._ That means he's already missed two doctor's appointments regarding the baby.

"No, no! It's okay! It's Vicky, remember? So I don't mind going in alone." Patrick quickly assures Pete, grin still stretched across his face, and slides into the seat next to Pete.

His stomach sinks a little. A small part of him wants Patrick to look at him like he looks at Pete.

"So, anyway, Pete! Pete! I met another carrier at the hospital!" Patrick's practically vibrating in his seat, and it's the cutest thing Brendon has ever seen. Now he sees what Pete means by _'rainbows and butterflies and sunshine'._

"He's, like, seven months along, and his stomach is _big_ and he let me touch his bump and it's really awesome!" Patrick gushes to his friend, his eyes shining bright. "I can't wait to-"

Brendon's breath is hitched in his throat when Patrick turns his head, his sentence instantly cut off as his expression morphs into surprise before settling on anger.

"What is _he_ doing here?" Patrick hisses at Pete, glaring. Pete visibly gulps, and Brendon sits up straight in his seat. "I- I asked him to call you here. I want to talk to you about the, um, the baby. I- I want to raise the baby."

Patrick regards him with a cold look, his eyes narrowed and jaws clenched. "You _had_ that chance. I'm leaving." He abruptly stands up and leaves the booth, not sparing a glance at either of them.

"Patrick, I'm sorry." Brendon stands up as well, turning around to look at Patrick, who has his back to him and is nearing halfway to the door. "I didn't mean what I say back then. I panicked. But I mean it now. I want to be a part of the baby's life. I- I'll even go to the doctor's appointments with you."

When Patrick continues to walk away from them, it feels like everything is over. He just lost his chance to ever get to know his kin.

"Patrick." Pete's deep voice cuts through the tense atmosphere, stopping Patrick effectively. It's the first time that Brendon has heard Pete call the other man by his name. "He has a right to the baby, too. You can't deny him that."

"I think he made it clear the last time we saw each other."

"And he made it clear a few seconds ago that he wants to raise the baby." Pete counters, his voice firm, and fully stands up. "Turn around, Patrick."

To Brendon's surprise, Patrick does, no matter how begrudging. His face is red from anger, eyes sharp, and nostrils flared. "Happy?" He bites back.

Patrick's glare shifts from Pete to him, and Brendon steels himself for what might happen.

"Fine." Patrick says, his voice deadly calm, devoid of the earlier spite. When Brendon turns to look at Pete, the older man also has a puzzled look on his face, like he doesn't expect Patrick to give in this easily.

"I'll inform Pete of the baby's progress so he can pass it to you. _Only_ the progress. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less." Patrick raises his eyebrow, knowing that it's not enough for Brendon and challenging him to ask for more.

Brendon squares his shoulders, maintaining his eye contact with Patrick. He knows he's taking Patrick's bait, but this is _his_ baby, too. And he'll fight till the end for it. "No. I want to go to the appointments so I'll know the progress firsthand. I want to feel the baby's first kick. I want to be there every single day for the baby _before_ he is born, _when_ he is born, and _after_ he is born."

Patrick actually looks quite surprised at his sudden boldness judging from his slight widening of his eyes, but he quickly masks it with a poker face. Brendon can almost see gears turning in Patrick's head, like he's contemplating on what he just said, and he holds his breath in anticipation.

"If-" Patrick begins, " _If_ you can prove yourself that you can be responsible, then I'll consider it. If not, don't waste both of our times. I'm more than capable to take care of this baby myself."

Patrick leaves as soon as the last word leaves his mouth. Brendon lets out the breath he's been holding and turns to look at Pete with a relieved grin on his face. "I think I just convinced him."

Pete laughs and sits back down, rolling his neck and groaning at the cracking sound it made. "Holy shit. That's fucking intense, man. But at least it works out in the end."

"No shit." Brendon takes his seat, massaging his temple. "I wish I can do like what you did. Like, just a call of his name, and he'd listen to whatever the hell you're saying. That'd save so much time and trouble."

"Nah, you'll learn how to handle him. Sometimes if the situation calls for it, you just need to be strict with him, like you did just now. He's stubborn and hot-headed, so you can't fight if your head's all over the place. That's just going to make everything worse. The last time I did that, he punched me in the face." Brendon listens carefully to each and every word of the advice that Pete's giving him, nodding here and there. "Just keep your head cool, say what you need to say, and give him some time. He'll come back."

Then, Pete's phone chimes with a notification. Pete takes out his phone and chuckles, then shows the screen to Brendon. "See? What did I tell you? He came back."

 _From: Patrick_  
_14:29:10_  
_By the way, can you buy me their lasagna? I'll pay you back later_

"He doesn't hold his grudges long. Trust me." Pete grins as he types in a reply to Patrick's message. "Rainbows, butterflies, sunshine. You just need to get to know him."

But what if he does? It's clear that Patrick still holds some kind of resentment towards him even though it's been a month. His flicks his gaze over to Pete's phone, pushing down the strange feeling bubbling in his chest. He also wants to be the one Patrick turns to when he suddenly has his craving episodes, because, in a way, he's also feeding the baby inside him.

"Will he even give me the chance to?" Brendon sighs and slumps down.

"Hey, as tough as he looks, he's going to need help with his pregnancy, whether he asks for it or not." Pete clasps his hand on Brendon's shoulder, squeezing and giving him an encouraging smile. "And when that time comes, that's your chance."

-

_"Hey, man. You busy?"_

Brendon pulls his phone away from his ear and checks the time before placing it back to his ear again. "Pete, you do realize it's half past ten, right?"

_"No shit, Sherlock."_

_And who can argue with that._ He rolls his eyes. "What trouble are you getting me into this time? Just remember my classes start tomorrow."

_"Dude, just skip on your first day. Nobody usually comes anyway."_

" _Dude,_ " Brendon mocks him, "I need to see my advisor about my senior project."

_"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, grab your keys and head to the nearest Wendy's and buy a BBQ Ranch salad. The full one. I'll text you the address to deliver it later."_

"My curfew is at eleven."

_"Better get going now. Your curfew's at eleven."_

Pete hangs up after that, leaving Brendon wondering what just happened and annoyed at having to go out when he's already in his pajamas. Well, seeing that it's just Pete, and the Wendy's near his campus has drive-thru, he decides to just go with his pajamas. He puts on his hoodie and drives to the fast food joint.

When he checks his phone while waiting for his order to be prepared, Pete has already sent him an address. He stares at the address in confusion. _Since when did Pete move to a new place?_  Shrugging the matter off, he puts the address in GPS and looks up when the worker hands him his order. He pays the exact amount, not wanting to waste any second waiting for them to return with the change, and follows wherever direction the GPS is giving him.

He ends up at an apartment complex ten minutes later, and as he presses the button on the elevator, he knows he's going to get a fine for coming back after curfew. He's already broke as hell, and he only has around a dollar and a few pennies in his wallet.

"You're paying for my fine, Pete." He grumbles under his breath as the door to the elevator opens. He steps out and looks left and right at the door number, and stops in front of a door marked _4E._ He knocks on the door twice and waits for Pete to open the door.

He hears the door being unlocked from the inside, and he's just about to launch a rant when the door finally opens, revealing someone who is _definitely_ not Pete.

"P- Patrick?" Brendon's mouth hangs open, and his heart starts to pound against his chest.

"Brendon?" Patrick furrows his eyebrows before opening the door wider. "What are you doing here?"

He licks his lip, suddenly feeling nervous. "Um, P- Pete. Pete asked me to buy him food and send it here."

"Wendy's?" Patrick looks up at him with wide eyes, his tone hopeful. This close, Brendon can see how beautiful Patrick's eyes are behind his large black-framed glasses. Blue with a speck of yellow. _Like Starry Night._

"Y- yeah." Brendon nods and shows him the food he bought. Patrick turns his gaze to the plastic in his hand, a smile beginning to creep up on his face. "Full BBQ Ranch salad?" He whispers, still eyeing at the logo on the plastic.

Suddenly, everything makes sense to Brendon. Why Pete randomly called him late at night to buy food and send him to an unknown address. The food isn't for Pete in the first place. "I'm guessing it's for your cravings?"

"Uh huh." Patrick sniffs at the scent wafting out, and Brendon chuckles, entertained by Patrick's behaviour. He hands the plastic bag to Patrick, who takes it gratefully and almost covers his face with the plastic to sniff more of the scent.

Brendon smiles in adoration at the man in front of him, wondering how the person who hated his guts back at the restaurant is the same person as this Wendy's-sniffing sunshine clad in Batman pajamas. "Nice pajama, by the way."

Patrick takes his face out of the plastic bag, turning red at Brendon's comment. "So is yours."

"Um, hold on. I'll get the money." Patrick says and runs back inside to get his wallet, but Brendon quickly stops him. "N- No, it's okay. You don't have to pay me back."

But if Patrick were Pete, Brendon would have forced him to pay for the food, gas _and_ the fine he'll be getting.

"You're getting your cravings because of the baby, and, well, I already said I'll be responsible for it, so…" he trails off, scratching his neck. "I, um, I'll buy you any food you're craving for from now on."

"Brendon…" Patrick bites his lip, forehead creasing. The way Patrick says his name makes his chest flutter with pleasant feelings, and his ears are just begging for Patrick to say his name more.

"It's okay, really. I want to pay for it." Brendon insists, even though he knows he's going to regret saying it one day. But if it gets Patrick to trust him with the baby, then being broke is worth every penny spent. "Just call me if you have any cravings."

Patrick has hesitation written all over his face before he finally gives in with a sigh. "I don't have your number."

Brendon immediately brightens up and grins. _Patrick agreed!_ He takes out his phone and hands it to Patrick. "Put your contact in. I'll send you a text."

When Patrick gives him his phone back, he's smiling with a small blush on his face, and Brendon can't stop grinning. He just got Patrick to agree to help him with his cravings and he also got Patrick's phone number. And the cherry on top? He just made Patrick smile _and_ blush.

"Great. Um, enjoy the food?" Brendon looks at him sheepishly. Patrick smiles and waves his hand. "I will. Thanks for buying. Bye, Brendon."

Brendon whistles happily as he makes his way downstairs, hand gripping tight around his phone, and all his thoughts about getting fined fly out the window.

He's one step closer to proving himself to Patrick.

-

Brendon's finally figured out the solution to his _I'll-buy-you-any-food-you're-craving-for-from-now-on_ problem. All he has to do is get a job, and that's what he does. He finds one as a tutor for freshmen at his university. It works in his favour, too. He doesn't have to travel anywhere, and he even saves money on gas.

Excited at getting a job, he immediately texts Patrick to tell him about it, but decides against it the last second. He wants to tell him directly, as in face-to-face, so he can see Patrick's reaction to it. _Pride? Maybe he figures out that he's wrong and drops the challenge._

 _To: Patrick_  
_16:15:00_  
_are you at your place? i need to tell you something_

 _From: Patrick_  
_16:15:14_  
_I'm working right now but just head over to my workplace_

Patrick attaches his work address along with the message he sent, and Brendon arrives at the place within fifteen minutes. He looks up at the store sign, making sure he got the place right. It's a decent music store, quite large, too, and he can see plentiful of musical instruments in the shop from the window.

He opens the door to the shop and enters, a bell chiming on top. He continues to look around in wonder. Guitars and basses are hung on the wall, lining up nicely. There are also cymbals, keyboards, synthesizers, and even wind instruments.

As he steps into the store further, he notices a small stage set up on one side of the store- complete with two guitars and basses on stands, a drum kit, and a few unplugged amps.

"See anything you like?"

Brendon jumps at the voice, quickly closing his mouth in case the person catches him gaping and drooling. He turns around and sees a guy with tattoos all over his arms and legs and even more on his neck. He pushes his glasses up his nose, noticing the nametag that says _'Andy.'_

"Uh, actually, I'm looking for Patrick?"

Andy raises his eyebrows at him, and Brendon grips on his bag tight, almost cowering under Andy's intimidating stare. Then, all too sudden, Andy beams and jerks his head to the direction of a door. "He's teaching a class right now. Should be done in ten minutes. You can hang around if you like."

"O- Okay." Brendon looks at him quizzically when Andy turns around, heading back to the counter. _Teaching?_ Is that what Patrick does?

He walks around the store, admiring a shiny white guitar on the wall when he feels a presence behind him. He looks over his shoulder and sees a guy with an afro smiling at him.

"Hi! Are you the kid?"

Brendon scowls at him. This time, the guy's tag says _'Joe'_. "I'm twenty-two."

Joe grins, ignoring his words. "Hey, Andy! Guess who's in the store!"

"Leave him alone, Joe."

"C'mon, Andy! We finally get to meet the kid!"

Brendon turns to face him fully and frowns. "Again, _twenty-two_."

"He's none of our concern, Joe. Don't bother him."

Joe pays no heed to Andy's words, instead, he looks at Brendon with the most creepiest grin Brendon has ever seen. "So, you're the kid who knocked Patrick up, huh?"

Brendon's face pales at the question before blood rushes upwards, painting his neck and face red. _"W- What?"_

"Hey, Andy! The kid's blushing!"

Andy stomps towards them and grabs Joe by the back of his shirt, dragging him back to the counter. While Joe and Andy are arguing at the front, Brendon can't help but replay Joe's words in his mind.

_Someone else knew about Patrick's pregnancy?_

He's jolted out of his reverie when the sound of excited murmurs enter his ear.

"Bye-bye, Tricky!"

"We'll see you tomorrow, Tricky!"

A group of children, between the ages of six and ten, shuffle out of a room in the back, smiling and waving at each other. Brendon walks towards the door and peeks inside.

"Thanks for today, Tricky." A small girl hugs his legs and beams up at him before digging something through her bag. "Oh! I made this for you last night. I hope you like it!"

The girl passes him a colourful handmade bracelet with a few beads hanging at the end. Patrick grins and ruffles her hair. "I really love it! Thank you so much!"

His stomach flips at the scene in front of him. Patrick looks so natural and at ease with kids. Maybe that's why he said he can raise the baby without Brendon's help. His body suddenly feels heavy at the thought.

"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow!" The girl waves at him and runs out of the room, her large bag bouncing behind her. Brendon moves aside so she doesn't collide into him. The room is now empty with the exception for Patrick, and Brendon takes a deep breath before entering.

"H- Hey." Brendon smiles nervously, clutching his bag. Patrick glances at him briefly before moving to tuck the chairs in. "Hey. So, what did you need to tell me?"

"I got a job." Brendon beams as he bounces on his feet in excitement. "It's nothing much, just tutoring at campus, but it's something, right?"

A light blush appears on his cheeks when Patrick turns to stare at him, both in disbelief and surprise. "You- really?"

"Y- Yeah." Brendon scuffs his shoes against the floor, hands clasped behind his back, feeling embarrassed. "You- you said that I need to prove myself. And I figured that getting a job is one way to go."

"Huh." Patrick blinks, his eyebrows raised. "That's good for you."

Brendon hops onto the nearest table and swings his legs back and forth, looking around the room in fascination. There's an upright piano at the front and two acoustic guitars on the opposite side of the room. The whiteboard has musical notes written on it, along with their definitions.

"So, what do you do here? Like, I can tell that you teach, but what instrument? How do you teach?"

Patrick stops what he's doing and leans against a table, and starts to answer his questions. His mouth moves fast, like his hands, with enthusiasm about the topic, and a wide smile grazes his lips the entire time.

His heart skips. Brendon never would've thought that he'd see Patrick happy and animated in front of him. The last time that happened, Patrick stopped in the middle of his ramblings and glared at him as soon as he saw him. But this time, Patrick doesn't stop once, and there's even a happy flush high up on his cheeks.

The best part, in Brendon's opinion, is that it isn't because of Pete.

And as he continues to gaze at the man in front of him, a strange feeling - _good_ feeling - fills his chest when Patrick rubs his small bump idly as he continues to chatter.

-

It's already night, around ten p.m. on a Wednesday, and Brendon has already settled in his bed and snuggled under the cover, earphones in and laptop opened playing a movie. Tyler, on the other hand, is fighting his sleep as he rushes to complete one of his many assignments.

Brendon wants to feel bad for his roommate, he really does, but he's not going to.

"Aren't you supposed to do your senior project or something?" Tyler asks him from his desk. Brendon pulls one earphone out, eyes fixated on the movie. "Yeah, but it's not like I have to hand it in tomorrow."

"Touche."

Brendon ignores him after that as he gets absorbed into the movie. When his phone rings next to him, he presses answer without tearing his gaze away from the laptop screen. "What?"

_"Oh, um, nothing. You sound busy. Sorry."_

Hearing the familiar voice, Brendon hits the space bar and sits up straight at the speed of light, almost startling his roommate at the sudden movement. "H- Hey. No. No, I'm not busy. I was just watching a movie." Brendon stutters out as blood pounds in his ears. "Is something wrong, Patrick?"

_"Pete has a gig, and I, uh, don't really drive well at night. Can- can you buy me some lemon? And some Dunkin' Donuts?"_

_Oh._  "Is it for your-" Brendon stops himself before he can finish his question and glances at Tyler nervously. Tyler doesn't seem to notice anything, as he's focused on his work, and sighs in relief. "Yeah. Sure. I'll go right now."

_"Thanks. See you soon. Bye, Brendon."_

As soon as Patrick hangs up, a smile creeps up on his face. Brendon doesn't know why he's smiling either, but it makes his stomach flutter that Patrick came to him for help.

He gets up and changes into his pants and grabs his hoodie, car keys and wallet before slipping on his shoes and dashing out the door.

"Wait, Brendon! Where are you going? It's almost curfew!" Tyler yells out after him.

"Out!" Brendon's voice fades as he runs into the hallway.

-

Giddy. Ecstatic. Light-headed. Jittery. Those are some examples of what Brendon is feeling as he stands in front of Patrick's door forty-five minutes later with two plastics bags in his hand, one containing lemons, the other doughnuts. On his other hand, he's holding a cup of iced tea.

He knocks on the door, and in an instant, the door opens, revealing Patrick in one of his superhero pajamas. Patrick's gaze falls onto the plastic bags he's holding, and Brendon can't help but smile at the familiarity of the situation.

"Here." Brendon hands him the bags, to which Patrick accepts gratefully before looking inside the Dunkin Donuts bag, sniffing and moaning at the scent. "Thank you so much."

Brendon flushes at the smile Patrick gives him. "N- no problem. This came with the donuts," he continues as he shoves the cup in Patrick's direction, but Patrick just shakes his head. "You can have it."

Brendon looks at his watch. There's no way he's going to make it in time before his curfew. Would Patrick mind if he stayed the night?

He clears his throat, and Patrick snaps his head up from the the inside of the plastic bag to him, a baffled look on his face. "Can I, um, sleep here tonight? It's almost past my curfew…" Brendon trails off nervously, his eyes darting to see Patrick's expression.

Maybe his eyes are tired from watching movies all day, or it could just be a trick of the light, but to him, it seems like Patrick's face just brightens up. There's no way that's happening, though, right? Patrick dislikes him. In fact, he's pretty sure that Patrick still holds a little resentment towards him from the incident back at the dorm and the restaurant.

"Sure. I mean, it's my fault that you're out late anyway." Patrick apologizes to him and opens the door wider before stepping aside to make way for Brendon.

"Thank you." Brendon breathes out as he looks around the apartment. It's a simple apartment, nothing fancy or extravagant like Pete's. The first thing that he sees when he walks in is the living room on his left - a flat screen TV against the wall, a sofa set and a glass coffee table in the middle.

When he turns to look at Patrick, the other is already in the kitchen, taking one lemon out and cutting them into slices before squeezing the juice into a jug of lemonade.

Patrick must've run out of lemons while making lemonade.

Brendon chuckles and shakes his head before sitting on the sofa, watching the show that's playing on the television. "I didn't know you watch Game of Thrones."

"Pete got me into it." Patrick calls out from the kitchen, then appears in the living room, juggling the lemonade, two glasses, and the donuts in both hands. Brendon moves to help him with the jug and places it on the coffee table.

"Thanks." Patrick takes a seat next to him on the sofa, legs crossed, and grabs a donut out of the box, munching on it as he turns the volume of the television up. "Oh, this tastes good. Thanks again for buying."

Patrick's a slightly messy eater, that's what Brendon notices as the sugar icing covers the area above and the corners of his lips. Patrick doesn't look like he's bothered by it. He just wipes the icing around his mouth with his thumb and licks it before taking another bite, his eyes never leaving the television screen.

Brendon has to admit. The sight is pretty adorable. His gaze drops to Patrick's stomach. If the baby has Patrick's adorable little trait, he doesn't mind about it. In fact, he doesn't mind at all if the baby inherits all of Patrick's trait.

He joins Patrick in watching the show, and even though he's starving, he only waits until Patrick offers him the snack. He knows how… _protective_ pregnant people can be with their food, speaking from his own experience, of course. He can still feel the pain from when his pregnant sister pinched him for eating her cheesecake without her permission.

He stays awake for another two hours, dozing off in between, and when he blinks his eyes open, he feels a weight on his shoulder. Looking down, he finds that Patrick has fallen asleep, his chest rising and falling in slow rhythm, glasses askew.

He takes Patrick's glasses off carefully, not wanting to wake him up, and places it on the coffee table. Then, he keeps his arm around Patrick's shoulder before sliding out of the seat and laying Patrick down on the sofa. He grabs a cushion and places it below Patrick's head, then kneels down next to him, just watching and admiring the sleeping man. His lips are parted slightly, and the sound of his soft breathing can be heard in the silence of the room.

He gingerly places his fingers on Patrick's mouth, wiping off the remnants of the sugar frosting from the donuts. In doing so, his finger accidentally grazes his lips, and Brendon freezes.

Would this be considered creepy? Staring at someone sleeping and touching them?

He traces his thumb lightly over Patrick's bottom lip, and he wonders if it feels as soft if he replaces his thumb with his own lips.

Sighing, he stand gets up and settles on the loveseat, laying down as his legs dangle off from the armrest. He places his glasses on the table, and with one last glance at Patrick's sleeping face, he lets sleep consume him.

-

Ever since that night, Brendon finds himself waiting eagerly for Patrick's phone call. As soon as the clock strikes ten, he would stare at his phone for hours, or until it rings, and this earns him a confused look from his roommate.

He even went as far as asking Pete for his gig dates and schedules so he can cancel out the date where Patrick is most likely to ask for Pete's help with his night cravings.

He doesn't know why he's being like this. All he does know is that he wants to see Patrick again.

As expected, Patrick calls him again three days later, albeit a little early, following the schedule that Pete gave him, and Brendon is all prepared. His car keys are in his hand, wallet in his jeans, and shoes on.

"Hello?" Brendon asks, trying not to sound too excited as he fixes his hair in front of a mirror.

_"Brendon? Can you buy me some chocolate chip cookies? And whipped cream. And, oh, slurpee would be nice too."_

"Sure. I'm on my way."

_"Thanks. Bye, Brendon. See you soon."_

"Where are you-"

"Out!" Brendon is out the door before Tyler finishes his question.

-

When Brendon reaches the apartment complex, he has forty-five minutes left until his curfew- ample time for him to get to his dorm with ten minutes to spare. But he also wants to spend the night at Patrick's place again.

He bangs his head on the steering wheel. What is happening to him?

A shrill ringtone cuts through the silence, and Brendon yelps in surprise before scrambling to get his phone out. "Hello?"

_"Hey, are you here yet? I'm hungry."_

Looks like he has no way out of this one. There's no choice but to go up to Patrick's place right now, and then go back to his dorm. He sighs quietly. "I'm on my way up."

_"Great. I'll be waiting."_

Brendon groans and reluctantly steps out of his car with the plastic bags in his hands. So much for wanting to stay at Patrick's. _Why does Patrick have to have his night cravings so early?_

He raps his knuckles on the door and puts on a smile. He needs to think positive. At least he gets to see Patrick again.

When Patrick opens the door, he has a wide smile on his face, and his tongue is even sticking out a little as he looks at the bags.

_And why does Patrick have to be so adorable?_

"Brendon!" Patrick beams at him and takes the bags from him before peeking inside. "Thank you so much! I'm starving."

Patrick walks back inside his apartment, leaving the door open. Brendon isn't sure what he's supposed to be doing. Is he supposed to enter? Is he supposed to close the door and walk back to his car? What?

He's snapped out of his thoughts when Patrick calls his name, one eyebrow raised expectantly. "Aren't you going to come in?"

 _Oh! Patrick wants him to come in!_ Brendon shakes his head to get rid of the previous doubts and grins, walking past the door and closing it behind him. "I was just thinking. Sorry."

"Don't be." Patrick says from the kitchen, and a few seconds later, the sound of cardboard being opened is heard. Brendon smiles when Patrick pads out of the kitchen with an opened cookie box and a can of whipped cream in his hands.

He plops down next to Brendon, takes a cookie out and sprays a generous amount of whipping cream on top of it.

"Don't you want a cherry to go with that?" Brendon teases him, feeling his heart flutter when Patrick laughs, body doubled over. "Oh my God. I ran out of cherries. Thank you for reminding me. I'll buy some tomorrow."

Patrick offers him the cookie box, and Brendon takes one gratefuly before spraying some whipped cream. "It's okay. I'll do it tomorrow."

"Oh, that's right." Patrick suddenly exclaims. He procures something from his pocket, and Brendon stares in confusion when Patrick hands him the item. "A key…? To what?"

"To my place."

Brendon's jaw drops at Patrick's answer, and he looks at the key in his hand. Is… is this really happening? Is Patrick really giving him a key to his place? Did he just receive a key to Patrick's place?

"Hey, calm down there." Patrick smirks as he closes Brendon's mouth with his fingers. "You look like you're hyperventilating. It's just a key."

Yeah, just a key.

_A key to Patrick's place._

Brendon licks his lips when he feels his mouth go dry, and he turns back to Patrick, smiling. "I- I don't know what to say. Thank you."

Patrick shrugs before grabbing another cookie and watching the television. "Sometimes if I'm in my room, I can't hear the door. So you can just get yourself in. Or, um, you can come in anytime, if you want."

The last sentence is mumbled so quietly that if Brendon hadn't been paying attention, he wouldn't have noticed that Patrick said it, or even the rosy blush dusting his skin. A grin spread across Brendon's face. _Does that mean Patrick wants him here?_

"Can I stay here again tonight?"

Patrick ducks his head, and Brendon totally doesn't miss the way his blush darkens and the way he bites his lip to hide his smile. "You can sleep in the guest room. I- I've cleaned up everything."

Just. Seriously. _Where has Pete been keeping this adorable angel all this time?_ How dare he hides Patrick from him.

"Um, y- you can even sleep here any day. Keep some spare clothes here or something." Patrick continues to mumble around his cookie. "Besides, you said you wanted to be there every day for the baby, so…"

Brendon isn't sure if tonight is his lucky night or if he just died and went to heaven.

"Don't mind if I do." Brendon grins again as he takes another cookie. Patrick returns back to his normal self, but the smile and the blush never leave his face.

Who cares if he has class the next morning? He just made some progress with Patrick.

-

On one morning, Brendon can't even describe his feelings when Patrick called him to come to his place.

_"I- I'm here-" he doubled over on his knees as he panted, trying to catch his breath after running up four flights of stairs. "W- What hap- happened?"_

_Patrick was smiling at him when he looked up. He locked the door behind him and pushed Brendon to the direction of the elevator. Brendon tilted his head to look at Patrick, who didn't stop smiling the entire time. Patrick caught his confused look, and his smile got even wider._

_"Check-up is today."_

So, now, they're walking into the examination room together- Patrick skipping on his feet merrily, and Brendon shuffling anxiously behind him. He can't help the fluttering butterflies in his stomach; this is his first time in an examination room for Patrick's routine pregnancy check-up. He doesn't know what to do, or even what to say in case he's asked a question by the doctor, but when he sees the smile on Patrick's face, his nerves calm down.

"Good morning, Patrick. Someone's feeling happy today." A red-haired woman in doctor's coat greets them as soon as she sees them. Patrick grins and bounds over to the doctor, hugging her. "Vicky!"

Brendon tries to ignore the burning sensation in his stomach.

 _Vicky_ catches his gaze and smiles. "And who might this be?"

Patrick smiles at him from over his shoulder - Brendon doesn't understand how a simple curve on his lips can get him cooled down - and says, "The father."

Heat creeps up his neck and face, and he smiles bashfully under their gazes. But inside, his heart soars high from Patrick admitting that he's the father _while smiling at him._

"I'm Brendon," he says, extending his hand out. The doctor shakes his hand and smiles. "Dr Asher, but you can call me Victoria, or Vicky." Then, Victoria turns to Patrick, who has already made himself comfortable on the bed, and sets up the equipment necessary for check-up. "I thought Pete was the father?"

"No. What the hell, Vicky?" Patrick frowns and scrunches his nose. Brendon resists the urge to pinch Patrick's nose, and thankfully manages to find a distraction by playing with the zipper of his jacket. "Pete's like my brother. Just… _no._ "

When Patrick pulls his shirt up, Brendon's eyes land on the small but noticeable bump on his stomach. He walks closer to the bed and keeps ogling, until Patrick has to tug on his hand to break him out of his daze. "Quit staring like that," Patrick mumbles in embarrassment.

"Sorry." But he's not in the least sorry. "It's just… the baby's in there," he whispers in amazement. His baby is in there. _His baby is inside Patrick._

Nothing can be cooler than this.

Victoria has finished applying the gel on Patrick's stomach, and she points to the monitor. Brendon flicks his gaze to the screen, mouth hanging open in awe.

There it is, in black and white image, a small grey figure floating around in the black background. "Is that…?"

"Yup. That's the foetus," Victoria says cheerfully. "The baby will be completely formed by the end of this third month."

Patrick is discussing something with Victoria, but Brendon's entire focus is directed on the screen. He has never seen a foetus in his whole life. An incomplete baby. _His baby._

_His._

_And Patrick's._

He snaps out of his trance when Patrick taps his chin with the back of his hand, closing his mouth. "You're drooling a little there." He smirks.

Brendon wipes the corner of his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket and looks at Victoria. "C- Can I have a picture?"

The doctor gives him a nod and a smile. "Of course. I'll be right back."

When the doctor leaves the room, Brendon shifts his gaze back to Patrick's stomach and bends down, poking with his index finger repeatedly to see if it can draw a reaction from the foetus inside, though he highly doubts so.

The only reaction that he gets is a glare and a light slap from Patrick. "Stop that."

"You're so fierce." Brendon pouts at him. "Like a Mama Bear." Then, his eyes light up with a brilliant idea. He traces his fingers lightly on Patrick's stomach and grins. "And you're my Little Bear. I'm gonna call you that from now on, okay, Little Bear?"

Above him, Patrick snorts in amusement. "Does that make you Papa Bear?"

His stomach flips when he hears the word _'papa'. This is real,_ he muses. He's really having a kid, and soon, this kid will call him _papa_ or something of the variety. _Dada, or daddy._

"Yeah. I guess it does." He looks up at Patrick to see him smiling warmly. "Guess that makes us the Three Bears."

-

Brendon doesn't pay attention in his classes the entire day. His elbow is propped on the table, head leaned against his open palm, and he's biting his lip to stifle his giant grin. The lecturer is teaching in front, but Brendon is doodling away in his notebook, humming a tune lightly under his breath.

"What in the world are you drawing?" Spencer whispers next to him as he scoots himself closer, peeking into his notebook. Brendon stops what he's doing, and when he finally takes a good look at what he just drew, it feels like he's just been punched in the guts.

"Are those supposed to be bears?" Dallon asks, taking Brendon's notebook to inspect closer. Brendon snatches his notebook back and stares at the drawing, jaw dropping open.

The bear on the left, which is the tallest out of the other two, is wearing a hoodie and has a pair of glasses on its face. The bear on the right is slightly shorter and wears the same pair of glasses and a shirt with a Batman logo on it. And between them is a tiny bear, holding the other two in each of its hands.

"That's pretty random." Spencer comments before turning his attention back to the lecture, Dallon following suit. Brendon, on the other hand, can't keep his eyes off of his drawing. He drops his hand to his lap, feeling his wallet through the front pocket of his jeans, and thinks of a particular folded greyscale photo.

-

"Hey, Pete." Brendon greets into the speaker of his phone. "Are you getting me into trouble again? Because it's one hour until my curfew."

 _"Brendon, listen."_ The boy tenses up when Pete says his name, instantly becoming alert. Usually it's either _'man'_ or _'dude'_ , but rarely his name. His stomach sinks with a heavy feeling.

_"Can you check on Patrick right now? It's urgent."_

Hearing the word urgent, Brendon quickly grabs his jacket and his car key, ignoring the quizzical look Tyler gives him, because he knows that Pete doesn't mess around when it comes to Patrick. "Sure. What happened?"

_"Is it raining yet?"_

Brendon looks up, wincing when he sees a flash of lightning between the heavy grey clouds before a booming thunder echoes through the air. He wastes no time getting into his car and starts the engine. "No. Soon, probably."

_"Good. Get to Patrick's place as fast as you can. He doesn't do well in this kind of weather. I'm scared if anything happens to him while he's alone. I have a gig right now, so I can't be with him."_

"I'm on my way."

_"And another thing. Don't ask him if he's scared or anything. Because he is, and chances are he'd probably kick you in the shins for asking him that. Been there, done that."_

Under normal circumstances, he would laugh at the information as he imagines Patrick kicking someone at his height, but at the moment, the fact only fills him with nothing but worry for the older man.

-

"Patrick? It's me. Brendon."

When he doesn't receive any answer, he walks further into the dark apartment and closes the door behind him. He goes into the living room first, but finds no one there. He makes his way to the kitchen next and jumps, startled, when the thunder claps before it starts to rain heavily.

Patrick isn't in the kitchen either, and that leaves one last place in the apartment. His bedroom.

His footsteps are quiet against the floor, drowned out by drumming of the rain, and he slowly opens the door to Patrick's bedroom, instantly noticing a large lump in the middle of the bed, covered with a blanket.

Brendon kneels next to the bed and places his hand gently on the cover. "Patrick…?"

Small fingers creep out from beneath the cover, pulling it down slightly until Patrick's head peeks out, his bleached hair sticking up in different directions. "B- Brendon?"

Brendon nods at his muffled voice. "Are you okay?"

Patrick shakes his head slowly, and when the room lights up with lightning flashes, he ducks back under the cover. Brendon moves to sit on the bed, rubbing what he hopes is Patrick's shoulder. "Do you want me to stay for tonight?"

Patrick doesn't answer, but he lifts up the cover, and Brendon takes that as an invitation to slide next to him. As soon as he lies down on the bed, Patrick immediately latches onto him, fingers clung to his shirt, shaking.

This is the closest contact he's ever had with Patrick after their one night stand. This close together, he can smell Patrick's scent mixed together with his body wash. He can feel his body warmth radiating through his shirt and pajama bottoms. He can hear his shaky breaths and small whimpers. He should be surprised that he even pays attention to the small details, but strangely enough, he doesn't.

Outside, the thunder claps again, and it echoes throughout the whole apartment, making the walls and the floor vibrate. Patrick takes a sharp intake of breath and squeezes his eyes shut, hiding his face in Brendon's chest. Brendon rubs a hand on his tensed back to calm him down.

Patrick is still shaking when the thunders have finally stopped. Brendon feels bad for him. He knows how scary it can be to live alone in the city, and while Patrick looks like he can handle himself in any situation, at this moment, he looks nothing more like a child who has just been spooked to the bones.

Brendon continues to comfort him as the rain pelts against the window. He's glad that Patrick has a reliable friend like Pete to get him through times like this, but he's even more glad that Patrick trusts him enough to let him see the vulnerable side of him.

They stay in that position until the rain has slowed down. Patrick doesn't make any motion to pull away, and Brendon doesn't want to move either. He wants to keep holding Patrick in his arms.

But, being the stubborn person that he always is, he never knows when to keep his mouth shut. "So, you afraid of the storm?"

"N- No! Shut up." Patrick scowls, drawing his leg back and kicking Brendon in the shin before rolling over to the other side. Brendon hisses quietly in pain while rubbing the bruise that has started to form on his leg. "It's the baby!"

Brendon huffs a laugh and spoons him, resting his hand on Patrick's small bump. Patrick's excuse is just like its owner. _Cute._

"Don't be scared now, Little Bear. Papa Bear's got you."

-

Brendon begins staying at Patrick's place after that night. After he went back to his dorm to clean up, he packed three spare clothes to bring to Patrick's, along with his laptop and his notebook and textbook.

He feels different whenever he's with Patrick. His chest flutters every time Patrick walks into the room, his stomach flips every time Patrick laughs or smiles at him, his heart skips every time Patrick rubs his small bump. And his skin tingles at every accidental touches.

But he's not complaining. He likes the feeling. Although, the last time since he's felt anything like that was when he was with Ryan. Brendon shakes his head. No use remembering the past.

He's sitting on the floor in the living room, his laptop on the coffee table with its charger plugged in, his textbook sprawled across his lap, and papers strewn all over the table. It's already past midnight, and Patrick has already gone to bed an hour ago. He wants to sleep too, his eyes have begun to get dry and watery, but he's put off his assignments long enough.

Then again, what's the harm in taking a small nap, right? He reaches for his phone lying nearby and sets an alarm two hours later. That's enough for a power nap. He takes off his glasses, pushes his laptop away from him and crosses his arms on the table before resting his head on them, finally getting some rest.

When he's awake from his alarm blaring two hours later, he feels the soft fabric of duvet under his fingers and draped over his back.

-

Brendon walks out of the bathroom, freshly showered and hair dripping wet, and puts on the extra pair of boxers and pajama bottom that he keeps in the apartment. When he looks through the drawer for a shirt and finds none, he drapes the towel over his shoulders and decides to ask Patrick for the clean laundry.

The light in the hallway is turned off, and so is the light in Patrick's room. Brendon peeks through the small slit in the doorway, thinking that maybe Patrick has already slept, but instead, he finds the other man standing in front of a mirror.

He can't see clearly what Patrick is doing, but it doesn't seem like he's doing anything. Patrick's just staring at his reflection, his face hidden from Brendon's view, and he has his hand splayed across his stomach.

Brendon feels like he's stuck in a trance as he continues to observe the other man. The moonlight falls onto his pale skin, making it glow brighter, whiter- as if it reflects the moonlight itself.

Surrounded in the darkness, Patrick looks like he gives off his own light.

He moves a little, trying to get a better view of Patrick without making any sound. He still can't see his face from where he's standing, so he gives up. Remembering the reason why he came to Patrick's room in the first place, he pushes the door open slightly and steps inside, but stops dead in his tracks when he sees Patrick's shoulders trembling.

A few seconds later, Patrick drops to his knees and starts sobbing, his fingers clutched tight around his stomach, still unaware of Brendon just outside his room.

The sight, combined with the heart-wrenching sound, shatters his heart. _Is Patrick crying because of the baby? Does he not want the baby? Does he only keep the baby because Brendon wants them?_

_Does he regret his decision for wanting to keep and raise the baby?_

Many questions invade his thoughts regarding Patrick and the baby. What if Patrick decided to change his mind and have an abortion?

Brendon wants to go to him and give him a hug, ask him what's wrong, comfort him.

That's what he wants to do. That's what he should be doing. But what he does is close the door and walks back to his room instead, guilt plaguing him the entire night and stealing his sleep away.

-

Sometimes, if he finishes his class or his work early, he likes to stop by at the music store and watch Patrick teach. He would sit at the back quietly, admiring the other man teaching the kids, his hands flying everywhere with fervor.

The kids are on the same level of energy as Patrick is, and it's nice seeing everyone feel the same way about music. If they continue to learn and practice every day, Brendon has no doubt that the kids will be great musicians one day- that is, if they choose that path for their future.

When he walks into the room that day, Patrick still hasn't arrived, but the kids are already there. They have also gotten used to his presence, and Brendon takes it as a chance to practice himself for after the baby is born.

"Brendon!" A girl with pigtails whom he recognized as Emma, exclaims happily when she sees him. All the other kids stop what they're doing and run towards him to greet him. Brendon laps up the attention he's getting and sits on one of the chairs in front, his back facing the door. "Patrick's not here yet?"

A boy, Alex, shakes his head with a pout on his lips, whining. "Joe said he's going to be a little late. But it's been ten minutes since, and we're bored."

Brendon laughs as everyone makes a noise in agreement. "Okay. How about we sing some songs? That's a good way to pass the time, right?" He asks and stands up to get a black acoustic guitar before sitting back in his chair, all the kids now sitting on the floor with their legs crossed, facing him.

"Oh! Sing Let It Go!" A girl cries out.

"No! I don't like that movie!" Another boy argues.

Smiling, Brendon shakes his head and tunes the guitar. He hasn't played guitar for some time, and he hopes his skills hasn't gone rusty. "Sorry, I haven't watched that movie. How many of you have watched Tarzan?"

Everyone raises their hands, cheering excitedly.

"I like Tarzan!"

"I want to be Tarzan one day!"

"Jane is pretty!"

"Okay, then, I'm sure everyone knows this song." Brendon takes a deep breath and begins strumming the first note.

 _"Come stop your crying_  
_It will be alright_  
_Just take my hand_  
_Hold it tight"_

Everyone smiles up at him as he starts singing, their heads swaying from side to side to the melody. Brendon almost chuckles in the middle of the song. Of course they don't sing along. Knowing them, they probably only remember the chorus lines.

He closes his eyes and continues to sing the next verse, and when he almost reaches the chorus, he opens his eyes and sees the kids with wide grins on their faces, ready to sing the part.

 _"'Cause you'll be in my heart_  
_Yes, you'll be in my heart_  
_From this day on_  
_Now and forever more_

 _You'll be in my heart_  
_No matter what they say_  
_You'll be here in my heart, always"_

When the next verse comes, they stop singing and wait eagerly for their part instead. Brendon smiles at them and continues singing until the chorus, where the kids start to takeover. He sings back again during the bridge, belting out the lyrics as his fingers begin to pick up the pace, making the melody faster and bulding everyone's anticipation for the chorus.

He throws his head back and laughs as everyone shouts out the lyrics at the top of their lungs, and he taps his foot to the rhythm, singing and shouting together with them.

Wow. He hasn't had this much fun singing, since, almost forever. Maybe after he graduates, he can find a job as a singer at a bar or a cafe or something. Who knows, maybe he can even get scouted while performing.

As they reach the last chorus, he slows the tempo down, his voice now soft.

 _"I'll be with you_  
_I'll be there for you always_  
_Always and always_  
_Just look over your shoulder_  
_I'll be there always…"_

He strums the guitar slowly before stopping completely, and everyone erupts into applauses and cheers.

"That was amazing!"

"Let's do it again!"

"You're awesome at singing!"

"Hey, look! Tricky's here!"

Everyone looks to the direction behind him, waving and standing up to get to their seats. Brendon looks from over his shoulder, heat rising to his face when he spots Patrick leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed just above his bump, smiling softly.

He smiles back, cheeks red, and places the guitar back in its original place just as Patrick enters the room. "Thanks for keeping them company."

"It's no problem, really." Brendon looks down at his shoes, embarrassed at having caught singing. _How long has Patrick been standing there anyway?_

When he glances back up, Patrick is still smiling at him. Brendon scratches his neck, suddenly feeling shy. "Why are you smiling at me like that?"

"No reason." Patrick shakes his head, the same smile never leaving his face, and starts the class for the day. Brendon sits quietly at the back of the class as usual, wondering if there was something more to Patrick's smile or if it was just his imagination.

-

_"Brendon, sweetie? Where are you?"_

"Mom?" Brendon answers in surprise when he hears his mother's voice from over the phone. "What? Why?"

_"Your father and I came over to your dorm to visit you, but your roommate said you haven't been there in a while. Where have you been?"_

"Mom-"

_"Did you go to your classes?"_

"Mom-"

_"Did something happen? I'm really worried-"_

"Mom-"

_"Do you want me to call the police? I can call them right now!"_

"Mom-"

_"Answer me right now, Brendon Boyd Urie! You are this close to giving me a heart attack here!"_

"Mom! I'm fine!" Brendon groans out loud, flushing a little when Patrick giggles next to him. He pinches Patrick playfully to get him to stop laughing and walks to the kitchen for some privacy. "Nothing happened, mom. I just stayed at, uh, my friend's place."

_"Oh? Which friend?"_

"You don't know him, mom."

_"Why are you staying at his place?"'_

Brendon starts to sweat. How is he going to answer that question? "Um. Uh- he- he got into an accident! Yeah, he had an accident, and now he can't walk. So I've been helping him."

_"That's awfully nice of you!"_

He can't believe his mom _buys_  that pathetic excuse of a lie.

"Of course it is! I'm _your_ son, after all, aren't I?" He's totally sucking up to his mother, he knows that, but it's for a future investment. He can get away with a lot of things if he's his mother's favourite. He's done it a few times, too, and he got away with a lot of things. "So, uh, are you still here?"

_"No, we had to go back. Your dad has to work tonight."_

His heart sinks at that. He really misses his parents. "I'm sorry, mom…"

 _"But you_ are _coming home for spring break. No excuses this time, Brendon Urie. All your brothers and sisters will be home, too. If you're not, I will personally-"_

"Okay! Okay!" Brendon shrieks out at her unfinished threat. "I'll come home for spring break. I promise."

_"Good. I'll see you then. I love you, sweetie. Study hard."_

"Love you too, mom. Bye." He presses the _End call_ button and sighs, staring forlornly at the dark screen of his phone. Spring break starts in two weeks, and even though the break is just a week long, he doesn't want to leave Patrick alone. And speaking of Patrick, he supposes he should tell his parents about him. There's no way he can hide the baby from them after the baby is born anyway.

He drags his feet back to the living room, flopping down next to Patrick and letting out a long sigh. Patrick nudges him on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"I guess. My mom wants me to come home on spring break." Then, he looks at Patrick's concerned face. "Will you be okay if I'm gone for a week?"

Patrick scoffs at his question. "Of course. What do you take me for?"

"I wasn't talking to you." Brendon raises his eyebrows in amusement and sticks his tongue out before moving down to Patrick's stomach, cooing, "Hey there, Little Bear. You'll be okay, right? One week isn't long. If you miss me, just tell your Mama Bear to call me, alright? I'll miss you."

He cracks into a fit of laughter when Patrick slaps him upside down on the back of his head. Of course, he'll miss Patrick too, but he's just going to keep that to himself.

-

The two weeks flew by too fast to Brendon's liking. The next thing he knows, he's being smothered into a group hug by his mother and his sisters as soon as he walks into the familiar warmth of his home. "C- Can't b- breathe!"

His sisters let him go after a few seconds, but his mother is still hugging him, then, as she pulls away, she tugs harshly on his ear. Brendon cries out in pain. "Ow! Mom! What did I do?!"

"That's for not telling me that you moved in with your friend!" His mother scolds him before smiling and hugging him once more. "I was one second away from calling the cops! I thought that you'd been kidnapped or-"

"Mom." Brendon groans and places his hands on her shoulders, stopping her in her rant. "I'm _fine._ That's all that matters."

"My baby boy's fine." His mother pinches both his cheeks as his sisters giggle the nickname. Brendon rolls his eyes at them. "Anyway, is everyone here yet?"

"Yeah. They're all in the living room. Come on."

True enough, because the second he steps his foot into the living room, his brothers greet him and pull him to sit between them on the couch. There's not enough space to fit three guys on it, but Brendon doesn't care. He just misses his siblings too much to even think of the discomfort. Once everyone is in the room, they begin to catch up with one another, and when it's his turn, Brendon gulps nervously as all eyes fall on him. "W- Well, um-"

He licks his lip and fiddles with his fingers, looking down at his lap. Is he really going to do this? Is he really going to tell his family that he impregnated someone?

And will his family accept the baby as part of the family?

He shakes the negative thoughts away. _This is his family._ So far in his twenty-two years of his life, they've been nothing but kind and understanding towards each other, even when he came out to them.

"Please don't be mad, but-" Brendon takes a deep breath. _Oh, God. He's really going to do it._ "Imadesomeonepregnant."

"Slow down, sweetie." His mother says, forehead creasing in confusion and concern. "Say it again slowly."

"Promise me first that you won't be mad." Brendon looks at his mother and his siblings, who all nod in return. A chorus of _"I promise."_ is heard around the room.

"Dad?"

"You didn't get in trouble with the laws, did you?"

"No!" Brendon denies, insulted. "I've never broken the law! Or any law, for that matter."

"Okay, okay." His father raises his hands in apology. "Sorry. What is it?"

"I, um-" Brendon clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I, uh, m- made someone pregnant."

He winces slightly at the gasps and murmurs from everyone. "Who is she?"

"N- not a she." Brendon mumbles and shrinks back into the couch, almost hiding behind his brothers.

Another round of gasps came from everyone. "A carrier?"

"He has a name!" Brendon bursts, overwhelmed with a rush of protectiveness, but when he sees the shocked look on everyone's faces, his shoulders drooped. "S- sorry."

"Well…" his mother voices up, trying to break the awkward silence in the room. "What's his name?"

"Patrick." He bites his lips, unable to keep the smile off of his face when he says the name. "His name's Patrick."

"How long have you two been together?"

His smile immediately drops. "We're not really… _together._ Like, we're close, I think. But not together."

"Oh." His mother quietly says, and Brendon can hear traces of concern in her voice. "Well, what's he like?"

"He's amazing. The most amazing person I've ever met." He looks down at his hands and smiles softly, remembering the moment when they first met. "And very independent. He knows how to take care of himself."

 _"You know what? Coming here is a mistake. I don't need you to raise this baby. You can go screw yourself. Have a nice day. Scratch that, have a_ decent _day. You don't deserve a nice day."_

He chuckles lightly before continuing. "He's feisty sometimes, but he has the softest heart. He teaches music to kids at a local music store, and the kids love him. He's just- I don't know, _amazing._ He's amazing. That's how I'd describe him."

His gaze softens as he mulls over his words. There are a lot of things that he can say to describe Patrick. Like the way his blue eyes would squint when he smiles, or the way his whole body would move when he laughs, or the way his lips would curl into a pout when he doesn't get his what he wants, or the way his fingers would flex before he plays a guitar, or even the way his face would light up whenever he gets to fill his cravings.

But he can't seem to push the words out of his mouth. He doesn't want to share all the little tidbits about Patrick with someone else. They're all his, and, in his own twisted mind, _Patrick's his._

"You seem to like him very much," his father comments, tone light-hearted and teasing as everyone breaks out into lively chat about a new addition to the family. Brendon glances back down at his hands and gulps, heart beating fast.

_Is it possible that he's falling for Patrick?_

-

"I think I'm in love with Patrick."

Brendon clamps both his hands over his mouth as he stares at Pete's blank expression. Great, Pete's going to kill him now. Why can't he just keep his mouth shut?

When Pete furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth, Brendon ducks and covers his head with hands, squeaking out, "Please don't kill me!"

"Dude, what the hell?" Pete laughs as he pries Brendon's hands away. "Get up. I'm not going to kill you."

"Promise?" Brendon eyes him suspiciously. He's been friends with Pete for years now, and he knows of Pete's tendency to say something that he won't do, but does it anyway.

Pete puffs his chest out and nods. "I'm a man of my words." Brendon rolls his eyes at that and stands up, but still gives Pete a wary look. "Okay. If you're not going to kill me, then what are you going to do to me? Torture?"

"Dude." Pete shoots him a _'really?'_ look. Brendon just shrugs in return. "I'm going to help you with Patrick."

"Wait- really?" Shock and disbelief cross Brendon's face. Is Pete really helping him? "Why?"

"You're one of the nicest people I've met." Pete answers bluntly. "Patrick's had his entire life treated like shit because he's a carrier, and you've been nothing but nice to him. Patrick trusts you, too, so I know you can be good to him."

A small blush makes its appearance on Brendon's face. _Patrick trusts him?_

Pete, noticing his red face, throws his arm around Brendon's shoulder and cackles. "And besides, I'd die happily knowing my best friend's in safe hands."

Brendon shoves his shoulder and huffs. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. So, how are you going to help me?"

"First, we need to get you a makeover."

"What?"

"If you honestly think I'm letting my best friend date-" Pete motions his hand to Brendon up and down and clicks his tongue. "- _this_ , then you're sorely mistaken, my man."

Brendon's mouth drops open, affronted, and he starts to splutter. "Hey! _I'm adorable!_ "

Pete snorts. "Dude, no offense, but if you want Patrick to notice you, you need to start dressing less like a kid and more like a man."

"Why does everyone keep calling me a kid?!"

"Because men don't have floppy hair."

An unease feeling fills Brendon at Pete's answer. Somehow, he has a clue as to where Pete is bringing him first.

-

_The Ways_

Brendon shifts on his feet uncomfortably waiting for Pete to finish talking with the owner. He doesn't want to get a haircut, and he just can't see himself in any other hairstyle than what he currently has. _And what if they decide to dye his hair?_

Brendon pouts as he looks at his hair in the mirror. He likes his original hair colour, thank you very much.

"So, Brendon, Gerard will help you with your hair today. Are you ready?" Pete walks over to him and beams, a red-haired stylist following him from behind. Brendon shakes his head.

Pete pats his back, grinning. "Just trust me, okay?"

Brendon eyes the scissors in Gerard's hand nervously and gulps when he comes closer. He instinctively ducks and covers his head. "The last time I took that advice, I got your best friend pregnant."

"Wait, Patrick's pregnant?" Gerard stares at Pete in disbelief, hands resting on his hips. "How come I didn't know about this? And _this_ is the kid who got Patrick pregnant?"

"Not a kid." Brendon interrupts, gripping his hair in annoyance. The number of times that he's heard people call him that since he got Patrick pregnant is unbelievable. "I'm twenty-two!"

"Oh, pfft." Pete waves his hand dismissively. "And you fell in love with him after that. Which reminds me, I still haven't received my thank you yet, by the way."

Brendon squeaks when Gerard pulls him back to the chair and straps him with the black cutting cape, almost choking him in the process. After a small coughing fit, he glares at Gerard, who smiles innocently at him.

"I'll give you your thanks if I'm satisfied with the haircut."

Pete grins at him from the mirror. "Then you better prepare a fucking speech after Gee's done with you." He turns to Gerard and pats his back. "Work your magic, Gee."

Each time a strand of his hair falls down to the floor, a piece of Brendon's heart falls along with it. He might or might have not teared up a little.

"So. You knocked Patrick up in a one night stand?"

A chill runs down his spine when Gerard snips the scissors harsher than it should have been. Gerard has a cold glint in his eyes, and Brendon visibly shakes in his seat, ready to run out of the salon any second, even with a bad haircut and a black cape around his neck.

"Uh- yes?"

He stiffens when the scissors snip just above his ear. _What the hell is wrong with this guy?!_

"And you didn't even remember what happened?"

_Snip!_

"You didn't even think to use _protection?_ "

_Snip!_

"Uh, Pete…" Brendon calls for his friend nervously. Pete is sitting next to him, but too engrossed with his own conversation with another guy.

"Pete, listen, no matter how many times we dyed your hair, it doesn't change the fact that you're still getting old."

"Oh, c'mon, Mikey! Patrick bleached his hair, and he looks like a baby!"

"Patrick dyed his hair because _you_ dared him to."

"You didn't even think to _stop_ before it went further?"

_Snip!_

"Pete… I kinda need your help here." Brendon whispers harshly to his friend, but is ignored once again.

"You're just jealous because I look good in blonde."

"Pete, in what universe would I be jealous of you?"

Brendon wants to cry. His friend is ignoring his cries for help, this 'Mikey' guy is oblivious to a possible homicide being committed next to him, and he's pretty sure that the psychotic stylist behind him is out to get him.

"You know, I think you'd look better if you go bald." Gerard states casually, grabbing an electric razor and turning it on, the buzzing sound filling his ears. "Yup. I'm just gonna shave it all off."

When the razor hits the back of his neck, Brendon immediately jumps out of his chair and places his hands over his head protectively. He glares at Gerard as the latter stares at him coolly, razor still buzzing in his hand.

"Whoa, there." Pete finally pays attention to him. "What the hell, Brendon? What happened?"

"He's out to get me!" Brendon points his finger to Gerard accusingly. "He tried to stab my head with his scissors! And now he wants to destroy my hair!"

"Why would he do that?" Pete blinks in confusion.

"Because-" Brendon stops himself from answering the question, blushing. How stupid would it sound if he said that they were fighting because-

"Because he got Patrick pregnant! _In a one night stand!_ " Gerard fumes before Brendon can finish his thought, his arms flailing around wildly.

"Dude, get over it!" Brendon retorts back, standing straight and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He knows what he did, and he doesn't need other people to remind him that. "That was, like, months ago!"

"Oh." Mikey suddenly voices out, attracting everyone's attention. "So _you're_ the kid."

Brendon groans and sits back down on the chair after much persuasion from Pete, along with his promises to keep Brendon safe from the 'evil clutches of Gerard and his tools'- were Brendon's exact words.

"I'm twen- you know what? I give up."

-

"Holy shit." Brendon gapes at his reflection in the mirror an hour later, turning his head side to side to get a good look at his new haircut. His previously floppy hair is now cut and styled into a messy quiff, the shaggy sideburns now clean and short. "I look _hot._ "

He admires himself a little while longer in front of the mirror, touching his hair and marvelling at how soft it feels under his fingers before walking to the counter.

"How much is it?" Brendon asks as he takes his wallet out.

"Five hundred dollars, please."

Brendon chokes at the price and looks at Gerard's smiling face. "Five hundred for a simple haircut?!"

"Whoa. I'm gonna stop you there, kid." Gerard narrows his eyes and cocks his hips to one side, arms crossed. "Did you just say _simple_?"

"You heard me, old man." Brendon glares back. "Or is your hearing imp-"

"Okay!" Pete clamps his hand over Brendon's mouth before it can get worse. Brendon just huffs and looks away. "Gee's just kidding. Besides, I told you I'm paying, didn't I?"

He watches quietly from the side as Pete pays for everything. His guilt lessens when he finds out that the real price is nowhere near five hundred. _What a prick._

"If you want to win Patrick's heart, go bald, honey." Gerard smiles sweetly at him. Brendon rolls his eyes and resists the urge to stick his tongue out.

"Ignore my brother." Mikey apologizes on Gerard's behalf, who sulks and goes off to tend to another customer, then looks at him. "You didn't hear it from me, but Patrick likes tattoo sleeves."

 _Whoa._ Brendon's jaw drops in surprise. He totally didn't expect that Patrick, who doesn't have a single tattoo on an inch of his skin and is even afraid of needles, has a thing for guys with tattoos, let alone tattoo sleeves. "Really?"

From his right, Pete is hysterically laughing and clutching his sides. "Oh, man. Why do you think he always hangs out with me? Or at the music store with Joe and Andy? He's so obvious it hurts just to watch."

Now that he thinks about it, both Joe and Andy do have tattoos on them, but he didn't realize that they also have tattoo sleeves. He probably should pay attention to everything around him from now on.

"If you want to get some done-" Mikey's voice breaks his thoughts, and he listens to what the taller boy is saying. "-I recommend you go to Ray's. He's a pretty swell dude. I can even get you a discount, if you want."

"That's because you're banging each other." Pete coughs into his hand before snickering to himself, ignoring the death glare Mikey shoots him.

Brendon does want to add some new ones to his collection. He already has two small - barely noticeable - tattoos on his arm, and hopefully one day, it will be full of tattoos. But right now-

"Maybe next time. I'm saving my money." Brendon smiles at Mikey, who he decides is the angelic counterpart to his batshit crazy psycho of a brother.

"Suit yourself. But if you want to, though, just go to Ray's. Tell him that I sent you."

They wave each other goodbye before he and Pete walk out of the store. "So, what's next?"

Brendon almost pees his pants at the grin Pete is giving him. "Next, we're getting you a new wardrobe."

-

When they've reached a clothing store, Pete tells him to wait outside while he enters the store for something. Brendon stands awkwardly in front of the store as he reads the sign above.

_Alpha Cobra_

He has so many questions regarding the store name. First of all, why _Cobra_? Then, why _Alpha_? Why _Alpha Cobra_? Who the hell comes up with the stupid name? Is Pete really taking him shopping for clothes at a store named _Alpha Cobra?_

He's still staring up at the sign with a confused frown on his face when Pete approaches him, together with a tall guy behind him. Taller than him, even.

"Brendon, this is Gabe. He's the owner of the store." Pete introduces them, and Brendon just gives the tall guy a smile and a nod in greeting, to which he receives the same gesture in return. "Also my second best friend, because the first place goes to 'Trick. Duh."

Pete clears his throat and skips to Brendon's side, throwing his arm around his shoulder and grinning. Brendon gulps nervously. Nothing good usually happens if Pete is grinning.

"And Gabe, meet Brendon." Pete smirks. "Patrick's baby daddy."

Brendon chokes on his spit, not expecting to be introduced as that. He has just made peace with the name _the kid_ , but not _that._

Gabe lets out a guffaw and raises his arms in greeting. "Patrick's baby daddy! Glad to finally have a face to put to the name!"

He covers his face and groans. _Is it too late to turn back time and tells himself that he doesn't need Pete's help?_

"So," Gabe rubs his hands together and looks between him and Pete. "I'm guessing you need me to change his image?"

Pete nods. Brendon shakes his head.

Gabe grins gleefully and pushes him into his store. Brendon doesn't fight him, knowing that it's a useless attempt.

"Okay, first. We're ditching your hoodies." Gabe says once they're inside the store. Brendon gives him a horrified look. "No!"

Pete sighs loudly. "Listen, man. No offense, but even I have to admit they're ugly."

"Offense taken!" Brendon cries out, clutching his lilac hoodie to his chest. "My mom said it looks cute on me!"

Gabe raises his eyebrow at him before turning to Pete. "Seriously?" He turns back to Brendon again. " _Seriously?_ How did you get Patrick to sleep with you with-" Gabe waves his hand around to make his point, "- _this?_ "

"Wow. I can see why you're Pete's best friend." Brendon deadpans and crosses his arms. He does feel a little hurt that people seem to think that his choice of wardrobe is bad. "If we're just going to stand around and insult me, feel free to, but I'm going back to my dorm."

He turns around to walk out of the store, but Pete quickly grasps his elbow, stopping him. "We're sorry, Brendon. We didn't mean to."

When he looks at them, they both have guilt written all over their faces. At least they know when they're being jerks. "Fine."

"Okay, I'll go find some pants at the back. You guys just pick any shirts to try out." Gabe tells them before leaving to go somewhere at the back of the store. Pete has already turned to his left where there are rows of shirts hanging from the clothes rack. Brendon stands behind, just watching the other and pulling on a strand of his hair.

That reminds him of something.

"So, what's the deal with Gerard?"

Pete hums, still going through the racks. "What?"

"I mean, like-" Brendon scratches his neck nervously, "-does he like Patrick or something? He's this close to mutilate my head when he found out that I was the one who got Patrick pregnant."

He looks down at his feet when Pete stops in his search to stare at him. He suddenly feels stupid for asking that question. "Sorry. Just forget what I said." He mumbles quietly.

"Hey, you don't have to take Gee's words to heart." Pete comforts him, patting his shoulder gently. "He's just a little protective over Patrick in our group. A few years back when Patrick was just nineteen or twenty, people used to harass him all the time for being a carrier. It got so bad that he refused to come out of his apartment for months."

"It was scary for us all, and when we finally got him to go out, we never let him leave our sight. One of us would be with him. I'd be with him most of the time. If I wasn't available, Joe and Andy would look after him. Sometimes Gee would, too. He was the one who taught Patrick to defend himself."

Brendon keeps quiet during the entire story as he feels a wave of sympathy for Patrick. It must have sucked to be constantly intimidated and tormented for something that was out of his biological control.

"And, well, it's another thing that Gee's the oldest and Patrick's the youngest in our group- actually Joe is, but you get the point." Pete smiles sheepishly at his small off rambling. "It's like an instinct, a second nature for him to protect Patrick. Like a father to his kid, y'know? If something were to happen to your baby, you'd be worried too, wouldn't you?"

After Pete's lengthy explanation, he finally understands why Gerard acted the way he did back at the salon. If it were him, he would've done the same thing too. But one thing that doesn't really sit well with him is that Patrick's a grown up man now. He's twenty-five years old, and Brendon has seen how Patrick carries himself. No one would have thought that he's a carrier, so Gerard doesn't need to dote on him all the time.

"I guess." Brendon shrugs as Pete shoves a pile of shirts into his hands. "Here. Try them all."

He goes into the dressing room and tries on a brown sweatshirt, then poses in front of the mirror. He has to admit, Pete does have pretty good taste. He looks at the bunch of shirts Pete gave him. There are two other sweatshirts of the same design, both navy blue and black, but different sizes.

When he walks out, Pete stops his discussion with Gabe, and they both turn to look at him. "Not bad, Wentz." Gabe smirks, eyeing Brendon up and down. "I swear, just a few years ago you had zero fashion sense just like this kid."

"Oh, shut up." Pete grins and shoves Gabe lightly, nodding in approval. "The size okay? I put in two other sizes just in case."

"Yeah, it's okay." Brendon pulls the hem of the sweatshirt down. "Not too big, not too small."

"Good. Now try on the flannel shirt."

He goes back inside, tries them all and shows them to Pete to get his approval. Pete nods and gives some comments every now and then, and Gabe gives him another bunch of clothes to try on.

Brendon never knew how tiring shopping for clothes can be. It's been two hours since they're in the store and getting him to try on different clothes. By the time they're finished, they have three shopping bags on each of their hands- once again, Pete paying for everything.

"Thanks for all these." Brendon raises his hands, showing Gabe the bags, and smiles gratefully at both him and Pete.

"No problem, mi amigo." Gabe beams friendly at him and claps his back. "I don't want Patrick's baby daddy looking like a kid fresh out of high school."

"Please tell me we're done." Brendon begs Pete once they're back in Pete's car. He's not above to pull his puppy dog face and shed one or two drops of tears just so he can get back to his dorm and sleep. "I still have to do my assignments, and I have a test coming up next week."

Pete seems to take pity on him as he gives the younger boy an apologetic smile. "Okay, okay. You must be tired. I'll send you back to your dorm, okay?"

"Thank you." Brendon sighs in relief and leans his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. His whole body is aching, and both his feet are sore. He can't wait to lie on his bed, his _fluffy, fluffy bed_ , with his equally _fluffy, fluffy pillow_ tucked to his chest, just sleeping away…

He almost dozes off, too, if it weren't for his phone ringing. Lazily reaching for his phone, he takes a look at the caller ID and springs alert immediately, all traces of sleepiness gone. "Patrick? Are you okay? Did something happen?"

_"Um, no. I'm fine. I- are you busy?"_

"No." Brendon quickly says and straightens his back, ignoring the scoff that Pete gives him. "No, I'm not busy. What's up?"

_"I, uh, have some leftovers, and I don't want to throw them away. Do you want to come over and eat with me? It's okay if you don't want to though, like I get-"_

"Yes." Warmth blossoms in his chest as Patrick continues to ramble on the other line, and he lets out a small, happy giggle. Why wouldn't he feel happy? Patrick just practically, in his quirky and adorable way, invited him to come to his house to have dinner together.

Besides, he sounds flustered, and it gives Brendon hope that maybe, just maybe, Patrick also feels the same for him. "I'll be there in twenty."

_"Great! I'll go heat up the food now. Bye, Brendon."_

The grin that he has on his face is probably the biggest one he's ever made. When Patrick ends the call, he demands Pete to change the destination to Patrick's place.

"What about your homework?" Pete teases him, a smirk on his face. Brendon crosses his arms behind his head and props his legs up onto the dashboard, grinning as wide as ever. "Shut up and take me to Patrick's."

-

The closer they get to Patrick's apartment, the more Brendon is bouncing in his seat, fingers twitching on the door handle, ready to pull it open as soon as they arrive. He can't wait to see Patrick's face when he sees his new image.

Patrick's going to be in for a surprise.

"Hurry up, Pete!" Brendon blurts out as he yanks at Pete's arm, urging him to drive faster. Pete just laughs and shakes his head. "We're almost there, dude. Calm down. It's not like he's going anywhere."

"I know, I know! But I want to show him my new hair!" The words come out in such a rush that he stumbles upon some of them, and he ignores Pete's loud cackle. His heart begins to hammer in his chest when a familiar building comes into view.

"So, are you bringing all the bags up, or do you want me to send them back to your dorm?" Pete asks after he pulls up near the building. Brendon glances at the bunch of bags in the backseat, contemplating. "Send them back to my dorm. I don't have my car with me, anyway."

Pete then gives him a small nod. "Do you want me to send you back later? Or is Patrick sending you?"

"Nah, it's okay. I'll take the cab or something." Brendon quickly gets out of the car the moment Pete opens his mouth to reply. Pete's a good guy, really, always helping everyone, but he's done so much for him in just one day that Brendon feels bad for asking for his help again.

And he doesn't want to bother Patrick, either, no matter how much he loves all the second spent with him.

He rides the elevator up to the fourth floor, rocking back and forth on his feet to ease his nerves. When the metal door opens, he paces along the hallway and knocks on the door, waiting for Patrick to open. He knows he can just open the door himself - he has the spare key, after all - but he wants it to be a surprise.

He steels himself when the door knob turns, and he takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly before smiling. "Hey."

"Brendon?" Patrick gapes, eyes bulging in shock as he ogles him up and down. "Is that really you? What happened?"

"Do you like it?" Brendon bites his lip and rubs his neck. Just before they left Gabe's store, Gabe insisted on him changing his outfit into his new one. Something about _'so people will know how awesome Alpha Cobra is'_ and _'free walking advertisement'_. So, now, he's wearing a black jeans and a plain dark brown long-sleeved shirt, something that he'd thought he'd never wear. He's always been more of a short-sleeved T-shirt with words or graphics printed on it and a hoodie kind of guy.

He feels like a changed man. He really does.

"You- you look-" Patrick skims him up and down once again, and his cheeks have become pink. Brendon smiles inwardly to himself. "H- Hair. A- and shirt. Um. You- I- dinner?"

Oh my God. _He just rendered Patrick inarticulate._

He's going to send a giant thank-you gift basket to Pete for this.

"Sure." Brendon smiles brightly as he makes his way inside. "So, what are we having for dinner?"

He tilts his head back to look at Patrick, a small smirk touching the corner of his lips when the other is still standing by the door, jaw dropping open. He raises two fingers to Patrick's chin and gently pushes upward to close his mouth, and his smirk widens when the blush turns a few shades darker.

"You're drooling a little over there."

Patrick, after realizing what just happened, slaps Brendon's hand away and furiously wipes his mouth, glaring. "N- No, I wasn't! Shut up!"

He stomps away into the kitchen, and Brendon grins at his retreating back. He _definitely_ owes Pete a thank-you gift.

-

"Patrick! Always a pleasure to see you!" Vicky giggles when Patrick throws his arms around her. Brendon stays a few steps behind, forcing a smile on his face when Vicky greets him. It's not like he _dislikes_ her or anything. It's just. Nothing personal.

Oh, who is he even kidding? It's all kinds of personal. He's jealous that she gets Patrick's hugs during every check up. If anything, _he_ should be the one whom Patrick should be hugging. _Who does she think she is?_

"So, how are you feeling today?" Vicky strikes up a conversation with them as she gets the equipment ready while Patrick has already laid himself down on the bed, shirt rolled up to just above his bump. "Good. Happy. Excited." He pauses for a second, then grins. "Very excited."

"You should be." Vicky sits down next to the bed and applies the gel evenly on Patrick's stomach. Brendon walks closer to him and stares at the milky white skin. They've been to a few check-ups before, and Patrick lifts up his shirt each time, but he never notices how white and soft-looking his skin is. He's always so fixated at what's _inside_ him.

"Oh? Why?" Patrick cocks his head in question.

Vicky winks at him and moves the detector around, looking at the screen. His simmering jealousy dies when Vicky answers Patrick's question. "Because today you get to find out what gender your baby is."

Brendon snaps his neck to Patrick, shock crossing his face before they both share a grin. _Holy shit._ They're about to find out if they'll be getting a boy or a girl.

"So," Vicky smiles at both of them, "would you like to find out?"

Judging from how fast they're nodding, Brendon's surprised that their heads don't fall off.

"Well…" Vicky drawls slow and long, and laughs when Patrick huffs in annoyance. "Vicky!"

The doctor shifts her gaze from Patrick to him before announcing triumphantly, "Looks like you're both getting a baby boy!"

Patrick's hand flies over to his mouth as a smile slowly carves its way on his face. He looks up at Brendon, who's smiling as well. "Brendon, we're having a boy!" Patrick whispers excitably, eyes wide and shining in happiness. "A baby boy!"

They're having a boy!

_Their Little Bear is a boy!_

His cheeks are beginning to hurt from how wide his grin is, but Brendon is too happy to notice it. He's got so many things planned for their son- he can't believe he's having a _son_! He's going to sing all the Frank Sinatra songs in the world as lullabies for him, but even if they're having a daughter, he would still sing Frank Sinatra either way. And when the baby can finally make noises, Brendon's going to teach him some Frank Sinatra tunes. And _oh!_

_Oh!_

_Bohemian Rhapsody!_  Yes! He is definitely singing Bohemian Rhapsody to his son every single day, and he's going to make sure his first words are _'is the real life'_ , and then he'll proceed with the rest of the song.

And when their son is old enough, they're totally having a duet on the song and rocking it out in the living room!

_So many endless possibilities!_

_Too many endless possibilities!_

Vicky's voice brings him back down to earth, and he listens to what she has to say. "Since you've already reached the fifth month, I suggest you begin talking to the baby. His hearing is still developing at this point, but he's already starting to hear. So, you can talk, read, or even sing to the baby. Get him to recognize your voice. That's one of the ways to bond with your baby."

Patrick nods once again as he takes the tissue Vicky gives him to wipe off the gel before pulling his shirt back down. "We will. Thanks, Vicky."

"Oh, that reminds me. Would you two like a picture?"

"Yes, please." Brendon says in a heartbeat, getting an amused look from Vicky in return. "Okay. I'll be right back."

He doesn't wait until Vicky's out of the room to lean down to Patrick's stomach, pushing his shirt up slightly. Vicky said the baby can already hear, right?

"Hey there, Little Bear." Brendon smiles, hand gently stroking the side of the bump. "You're getting so big. So, you can hear my voice, right?"

He drops down to his knees and clears his throat, feeling Patrick's questioning gaze on him, and starts humming.

"Oh my God…" Patrick mutters from above him, and if he has to guess, he's probably shaking his head, too. Brendon chuckles to himself and continues humming.

 _"Is this the real life_  
_Is this just fantasy_  
_Caught in a landslide_  
_No escape from reality…"_

-

Brendon rubs his eyes as he yawns, evidently tired from rushing between Patrick's apartment and his classes and tutoring the freshmen. Now that his classes are over, he drags his feet to his room in the dorm. It's been quite some time that he's slept in his own room.

He reaches for his keys and inserts it into the slit, twisting the door open. When he walks inside, he definitely doesn't expect to be greeted with the sight before his eyes. "Holy fuck! Dude!"

Tyler shrieks and ducks under the cover, along with another person, leaving only their heads visible. "B- Brendon! I- I thought you wouldn't be here!"

"At least put a sock outside! God!" Brendon groans as he tries to erase the image of his roommate getting fucked by a- "What are you? Junior?"

"S- Sophomore." The other guy replies, stuttering. "J- Josh Dun."

Brendon sighs and drags a hand down his face. He doesn't need to deal with this right now. "Look. Whatever. I just want to shower and get some sleep. Just keep it down."

He tosses his bag on his bed and heads straight to the bathroom after grabbing a clean shirt. He doesn't spend more than five minutes in the shower; as long as the water hits his skin, that's enough for him. When he walks out, both Tyler and Josh are, thankfully, fully dressed and sitting on Tyler's bed, watching videos on his laptop.

He flops down on his bed and reaches for his phone when it vibrates.

 _From: Patrick_  
_17:25:34_  
_Finished with your classes?_

Brendon couldn't help but smile at the message. Even though Patrick's just asking about his classes, it still makes his heart flutter because it means that Patrick is thinking of him.

 _To: Patrick_  
_17:35:51_  
_finished, showered, and in bed. caught my roommate with his boyfriend_

 _From: Patrick_  
_17:36:10_  
_What a nice homecoming present. Get some rest._

A breathless chuckle escapes him, and he powers his phone off. Then, he looks over to Tyler. "Did anyone come looking for me?"

"Yeah." Tyler answers after he pauses the video on his laptop, giving full attention to him, Josh doing the same. "Dallon and Spencer came over a few nights ago. They've been wondering where you've been. Which, by the way, where were you, anyway?"

"Somewhere." Brendon pulls his pillow to his chest and yawns before closing his eyes. He's so tired he could sleep for days. Tyler doesn't ask anymore questions, and his hushed conversation with Josh provides almost like a white noise to lull him to sleep-

-which Brendon is denied to when there's a loud bang on the door. "Open up, Brendon! I know you're in there! I saw your car outside!"

Looks like he's not getting that much-needed sleep for a while. With a groan, he pulls himself up and opens the door, and is attacked into a headlock by his tall friend. "Where the hell have you disappeared to?"

Brendon pushes Dallon's hands away and is met with two equally ticked off expressions from Spencer and Dallon. "I've been, y'know…" he shrugs, avoiding meeting their glares. "…around."

"Around." Spencer repeats with a deadpan voice. "Dude, we've only seen each other in class nowadays. We don't even hang out anymore."

"We do hang out. Just not _out_." Brendon sighs and rubs the back of his neck, walking back to sit on his bed. "I've been busy. That's all."

"With what?" Dallon crosses his arms, staring down at him. Actually, not just Dallon. Now that Brendon looks at everyone in the room, their eyes are all on him. "Work. Tutoring."

"Since when do you tutor?"

"Since a couple of months ago."

"Enlighten us, please." Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose. " _Why_ are you working as a tutor?"

Spencer's getting annoyed, and Brendon knows it. And when he reaches his limits, there will be hell to pay. So, he decides to just be frank with his answers, but still cover anything regarding Patrick. "Because I needed the money?"

"Are you telling us or asking us?"

 _Holy shit._ This is just like the time when he and his siblings got in trouble with their parents, and they tried to bullshit their way out of it with varying degrees of failure.

"Telling?" Brendon clears his throat and makes himself look cool. "Telling. I'm telling you."

Dallon taps his foot against the floor- an obvious telltale sign that he's getting impatient. "Seriously, Brendon? What the hell have you been doing these past months? And-" Dallon waves his hand to him, "-and all this! New haircut? New clothes? Why the sudden change of image?"

Spencer narrows his eyes. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"What? No!" Brendon quickly denies, and it's clearly a wrong move for him, because his friends share a suspicious glance with each other. "Boyfriend?"

Blood begins to rush up to his neck and face, coloring him scarlet, and it doesn't go unnoticed by the others. _Shit. There's no way he can get out of this now._ "N- No!"

"Who is he?" Dallon demands. "And don't bother lying. We can tell when you are."

"No one, I swear." Brendon looks up pleadingly at him, pulling his infamous puppy dog face. "You trust me, don't you, Dallon? My best friend? One of the person I'd take a bullet for?"

"You've lost that privilege a long time ago." Dallon frowns even further. "Spill before we force it out of you."

Brendon looks back and forth between his two friends. They're both sporting serious expressions on their faces, and when he glances past them, Josh and Tyler are covering half of their faces with a blanket, but their eyes are squinted, shoulders shaking. _Those little shits!_  They're laughing at him.

"Okay. You got me." Brendon sighs and raises his hands in surrender before taking a deep breath, looking at Spencer and Dallon with the most dour expression he can muster. "My real name is Drisella Kokane, and I'm an undercover agent-"

He yelps loudly when Dallon wrestles him on the bed. It ends up with Dallon straddling his back, immobilizing him. "You wanna try that again?"

Brendon coughs and winces when Dallon's sharp elbow digs into his back. "-undercover agent working for the FBI-"

"Spencer, get his phone."

Panicked, Brendon stretches his arm to grab his phone before Spencer can, but Dallon moves faster. He pins Brendon's wrists behind his back, and Brendon watches in horror as Spencer goes through his phone. _Shit. Shit. Shit._

"Oh, what do we have here?" Spencer smirks, finger scrolling on the phone screen. Brendon plants his face on the mattress so no one can see his darkening blush. "Give it back, Spence. There's nothing in there."

"Nothing? Are you sure?" Spencer tilts his head, eyes wide in fake innocence. "So you don't mind telling us who this _Patrick_ is?"

_Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. This is not happening._

"He- He's just a friend." Brendon ignores the slight pang in his heart when he says the sentence. "Give it back! Spence!" He's writhing on the bed now, desperate to get his phone back before Spencer finds something that he isn't supposed to. "Spencer! I mean it! Give my phone back!"

His outburst catches everyone off guard as he's able to shove Dallon to the side, and he immediately leaps to Spencer, taking his phone back and clutching it to his chest, breathing heavily. Adrenaline is thrumming in his veins, and he watches everyone closely like a hawk, in case they try to take his phone away again.

"Brendon…" Spencer stares at him, jaw dropping open in shock. Brendon casts his gaze downwards, knowing that he's caught this time. He sits back down on his bed next to Dallon, shoulders hunched. "I'm sorry, guys. I didn't mean to keep it as a secret…"

"Hey, what happened?" Dallon's voice is filled with concern, and he relaxes slightly. He still isn't sure whether he should tell about Patrick to his friends. He's scared of their own reactions, and he doesn't want them to think badly of Patrick.

"We're your best friends, Bren," Spencer says gently, kneeling down beside him. "You can tell us."

"We- um, we're just gonna go." Tyler stutters out, dragging Josh behind him and closing the door after. Once they're alone, Dallon and Spencer turn to Brendon. "Okay. What is it, Brendon?"

"I-" He chews on his bottom lip when his throat closes up. "I got him pregnant. That Patrick."

The silence makes his stomach churn in anxiety. He keeps his gaze down on the floor, not wanting to see the disappointed looks in his friends' eyes. "Please don't hate me," he mumbles.

"Bren, no. No, we don't hate you," Dallon soothes him, rubbing his back. "We're just surprised. When did it happen?"

"At Pete's party last year." He covers his face with his hands and breathes out slowly, body trembling. "He came here a month after that and told me that he's pregnant. I freaked out like hell, and I even asked him if the baby's mine."

"He was furious, and he said that he'd take care of the baby himself. I was glad, at first, that I didn't have to be resposible for anything. But then, I saw a family eating out together, and they looked really happy."

"And I realized that that's what I want. A happy family." He chuckles softly as he laces his fingers together- one of his methods to calm himself down. "I went to see him to apologize for what I said and told him that I wanted to be a part of the baby's life, but he wouldn't accept it. He said he'd only tell me the progress of the baby, but that's it. If I wanted more, then I have to prove that I can be responsible."

He dares himself to look at his friends, finding that the other two are listening to him intently, no judgement in their eyes. "That's why I looked for a job. I want to prove to him, and myself, that I can be one. That I deserve to be a part of the baby's life."

"But that was months ago." He sighs, looking back down on his fingers. "Now, I want to be a part of his life, too. I've been spending the nights at his place, helping him and everything. And somewhere along the way, I just, I don't know- I fell for him."

"Pete said that I needed to change my look if I want to get him to notice me. Said I needed to look less like a boy and more like a man." He laughs quietly as he recalls the exact words Pete uttered to him. Both of his friends laugh along with him, and the sound makes him feel partially at ease now. "So, here I am. Brendon Urie with a new image and a job and a baby in the making."

All his worries and anxiety drain out of his body as his friends pull him into a hug and congratulate him.

"I can't believe that out of us, you're going to be a father first." Dallon grins and ruffles his hair. "You, the most immature between us three, are a _man_ now."

"I'm still learning, but yeah, I guess I am." Brendon can't believe it either. Just last year he was still struggling to get out of his bed for morning classes, but now he wakes up early to help Patrick, get to his job and classes, and do his senior project. And on top of all that, he still manages to get his assignments done on time _and_ accompany Patrick to his monthly doctor appointments.

He's proud to say that he's reached a whole new level of milestone.

"So, do you know the gender yet?"

Brendon's eyes light up at the question, beaming. "Yeah! We're having a boy! Do you want to see the picture?"

At the excited nods he receives from the other two, he grabs for his wallet and takes out the slightly crumpled sonogram picture and gushes to them.

Suddenly, he doesn't feel all that tired anymore.

-

It happens again. Brendon's holding a glass of lemonade that he just made himself to give to Patrick, who is in his room, sitting in the dark and on the bed, crying.

The last time he saw Patrick in this situation, he didn't do anything to help him. He was too afraid to. It could be something personal, and he didn't want to be intruding.

He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door lightly. The sobbing instantly quiets down, but Patrick doesn't make any motion to turn around. Brendon walks into the room and places the lemonade on the night stand, then sits next to Patrick.

The room is silent, except for the soft sound of sniffling. Brendon looks at him, a hand on the other's shoulder as a gesture for comfort, and asks him, "do you want to talk? I'll listen."

It takes a moment for Patrick to reply. Brendon waits patiently until the sniffling stops, then Patrick wipes his nose before sighing. "It's nothing. Just a small matter."

Brendon knows it's nothing but _just a small matter._ "It's not small if it gets you crying," he says softly as he rubs his shoulder. "You can tell me."

"It's okay. I'll get over it." Patrick shakes his head and reaches for the lemonade on the night stand. Brendon just lets out a small sigh, a little saddened at the fact that Patrick doesn't share his problems with him. He wants Patrick to trust him, to know that he can count on him any day, any time.

But, what he can do now is, he supposes, make Patrick smile. That's not really a challenge for him, though. It comes as naturally to him as breathing. "How does the cheap lemonade taste?"

Patrick chuckles and leans back against him, taking another sip of the beverage. "Much better than cheap beer."

-

The next morning, while waiting for his class to start, Brendon whips out his phone and texts Pete. He can't stop worrying about Patrick since last night, and who knows better about it other than his own best friend, Pete Wentz?

 _To: Pete_  
_09:04:45_  
_you awake? I need to talk to you_

It takes Pete around an hour to reply, and by then, the lecture is already halfway through.

 _From: Pete_  
_10:15:11_  
_i am now. what's up_

 _To: Pete_  
_10:15:29_  
_Is Patrick ok? Last night he was crying but didn't tell me why_

 _From: Pete_  
_10:16:45_  
_It's probably nothing big, don't worry_

Brendon keeps his phone in his pocket, not replying the text. It's still not enough for him. If it's nothing big, then why did it take Pete a minute to reply?

Okay, maybe he should stop over thinking things. Maybe it really is nothing big. Maybe it's just the hormones. The doctor has already told them that there would be mood swings.

He tries to push his worries out of his mind for the time being. After class, he'll check up on Patrick again. Perhaps with some of his favourite snacks.

With a smile, he focuses back on the lecture.

-

Brendon checks all the items that he has just bought for the fifth time that day, in case he'd forgotten anything. There's a box of Dunkin' Donuts, a bunch of lemons, two cartons of vanilla ice cream, three boxes of chocolate chip cookies, and two packs of black licorice. _All there._

When he steps out of his car, he's surprised to see Pete's car parked just a few cars away. He shrugs it off and heads up to Patrick's place while trying to balance the heavy weights of the plastic bags in his hands.

He places the bags down on the floor as he reaches the door, and he wiggles his fingers to get the blood rushing. He takes out the spare key, inserts it into the slot, and is about to announce his arrival when he sees Patrick hunching over at the sofa with Pete next to him, his hand on Patrick's back. They're talking in hushed voices, but Brendon can still hear them from where he's standing, and he keeps quiet, ears strained to hear their conversation.

"It hurts so much." Patrick sobs into his hands, body wracking slightly. "My feet hurts. My stomach hurts. My back hurts. I can't sleep at night. It's- it's torturing."

Pete rubs his hand up and down Patrick's back before resting in his hair and pulling him to his shoulder, not saying anything.

Another sob sounds in the room, and it's louder than the previous sobs. Brendon feels a lump in his throat at the heartbreaking sound. "And e- every time I look into the mirror-"

"Okay, I'm going to stop you right there." Pete stops him with a stern voice before Patrick can say anything further. He twists his body to look at Patrick, but Patrick keeps his head down. "You can't listen to those voices. You've come so far since then. You are healthy. You are happy. Don't let the voices take those away from you again."

Chill runs down Brendon's spine when he hears Pete's words. _Again? Voices? Did something happen to Patrick before?_

Patrick shakes his head as he lets out a soft wail. "I don't think I can do this anymore, Pete. I hate this. I hate being pregnant."

Shattered. That's the state of Brendon's heart at the moment. Was this what Patrick felt last night? Was this what Patrick felt a couple of months back?

Has Patrick been feeling this the entire time?

Brendon closes the door quietly and leans back against the wall, ignoring the prickles and burns at the back of his eyes. Mixed emotions course through him, all at the same intensity that it's hard to pinpoint just one.

Crestfallen, because he doesn't even notice that Patrick has been suffering the whole time.

Upset, because the pregnancy has taken its toll on Patrick, and there's a chance that he may have an abortion.

Jealous, because Patrick opens up to Pete, and not him.

Anger, because Pete's there for Patrick, and he's not.

Everything is his fault. If he didn't go to the party, then he wouldn't have met Patrick, he wouldn't have gotten drunk, he wouldn't have slept with Patrick, and Patrick wouldn't have gotten pregnant.

And Patrick wouldn't have suffered from all of it.

If Patrick really wants an abortion, then Brendon can't do anything about it. He loves the baby, and he loves Patrick, but if Patrick has to suffer for it…

He needs some air to clear his mind so he can think things clearly. At least, before he does something drastic.

He bends down to pick up the abandoned bags of snacks. When he straightens himself up, the door opens, and Pete stands in the doorway, staring at him, face like he's just seen a ghost. "Brendon…"

"Y- yeah." He clears his throat and avoids Pete's gaze. "I- I just got here. I thought I'd bring something to cheer Patrick up." He gestures to the plastic bags he's holding.

"Bullshit." Pete states bluntly once he regains his composure. "I know you overheard our conversation. How long have you been standing out here?"

Brendon shrugs, still feeling bitter and jealous, but he knows that it's not Pete's fault. He just can't help it.

"Go ahead and put the bags in the kitchen. We need to talk." The hair at the back of his neck raises at how serious Pete sounds. "Don't worry about Patrick. He's already gone to bed."

-

After Brendon places the bags in he kitchen, they walk around the block in silence before entering a quaint cafe just two blocks away from the apartment complex.

They take their seats outside, and after making their orders, Pete finally speaks. "Would you stop sulking?"

Brendon furrows his eyebrows, lips pursed. "I'm not sulking."

"Sure. You're not pouting either. And I'm a flying gorilla."

"Okay, fine." Brendon spits, leaning back against the chair. "What do you want from me, Pete? What do you want me to say?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Pete asks back challengingly.

Brendon fixes his gaze on Pete's, even though he can still feel the slight burn in his eyes. "What? That Patrick doesn't actually want the baby? That it's my fault Patrick is suffering?"

His voice is tight in the beginning, but starts to crack towards the middle. He crosses his arms and looks away when the waitress comes with their orders, and they fall into silence again.

"Brendon, you have to know it's not your fault." Pete says calmly and slowly, as if Brendon is going to explode any moment. "Patrick doesn't mean any of those. I know for a fact that pregnant people have mood swings, and that was just his hormones talking."

Sure doesn't seem like it, Brendon thinks sadly. He takes a sip of his beverage, surprised to find that he ordered a lemonade.

"I have a feeling that you're angry at me."

Brendon sighs. It's stupid and childish when he thinks about it again. He's jealous for no apparent reason. Of course Patrick would tell Pete his problems. They're best friends. They've known each other far longer than he and Patrick have. "It's stupid. Don't worry about it."

Pete doesn't seem willing to let the issue go, though. "Does it have to do with me and Patrick back at the apartment?"

Does Pete have to be right all the time? God. "I told you it's stupid," he mumbles.

"Dude, it's not stupid." The way Pete says it so seriously grabs Brendon's attention. When he flicks his gaze to Pete, the other man is stirring his drink, looking grave. "You're not the first to feel like that about us."

"What?" Brendon looks at him in confusion.

"Me and Patrick, we're really close. Best friends. Always there for each other." Pete begins, his tone melancholy. "Almost all the guys and girls I've dated, they didn't feel comfortable whenever I was with Patrick. They thought that we're secretly fucking or something. All of them thought that. And the people Patrick have dated also felt the same way."

Pete smiles dryly to himself. "Patrick's the most important person in my life. He _literally_ saved my life. If people have problems with him, then they have problems with me. That's why I only sleep around." Brendon holds his breath when Pete stares at him with a halfhearted smile on his face. "That's why I trust you to be with Patrick. Because I know you know that we're just friends. And I do hope that you don't end up leaving him because of me, unlike what the others did."

Brendon can see the sincerity in Pete's eyes, and he can also hear it in his voice, and he knows that he will never have to worry about Pete and Patrick.

He smiles slightly, feeling comforted at that fact, but frowns again when he remembers what Pete said back at the apartment. "I heard you said voices. Did something happen to Patrick?"

Pete flinches in his seat for a second, and Brendon doesn't miss it. He has a feeling that it's something not quite good.

"It's not in my place to tell you that." Pete shakes his head, an apologetic look glued on his face. "Patrick may or may not tell you one day, but if he doesn't, please don't force it out of him."

He wouldn't dream of it. He'll only wait until Patrick's ready.

That's what he tells Pete, and he receives an approving nod in return. "See? I knew you'd be good for him."

Warmth blooms in his chest. Pete already approves of him and Patrick, in fact, he already gives him his blessings, but the question is, will he ever have the guts to confess his feelings to Patrick?

And if he did confess, will Patrick feel the same?

-

_"Dude, are you at Patrick's or your dorm?"_

Brendon groans and rolls over onto his back, annoyed at having his sleep interrupted because of a phone call. "What the fuck, Pete? It's still early."

Pete laughs that annoying laugh of his, and Brendon resists the urge to hang up straight away. _"So, anyway, Patrick's?"_

"No, I'm at my dorm." Brendon yawns and throws his arm over his eyes to block the sunlight from entering his eyes. Why does his roommate have to open the curtains every morning? "I stayed up late at the library yesterday. Got too sleepy to drive."

_"Good. 'Cause I'm in front of your dorm. Get your ass down in five minutes."_

"Pete!" Brendon groans again in frustration. "I want to sleep. Go bother someone else."

_"Four minutes and fifty seconds."_

"Whatever you say, I'm not getting out of this bed, Pete."

_"Even if it has something to do with Patrick?"_

Brendon sighs, knowing that Pete got him with that bait. It's unfair that he uses it to get him to do his bidding. Maybe his mom was right after all.

_"Never trust someone who says trust me."_

And of course that was how he became friends with Pete Wentz in the first place.

_"Hey, kid, how do you feel about becoming friends with the legend of this campus? You just have to help me with something. It's nothing bad, really. Trust me."_

He cringes at how naive he was back then.

"I'll be down." He sighs once again, immediately hanging up before he can hear Pete laughing. He showers quickly, washes his face and brushes his teeth before putting on random clothes. He doesn't really care about his appearance at this moment. He just wants whatever it is that Pete wants him to do over and done with so he can go back to sleep.

True to Pete's words, he's sitting in his car with windows down, doing God-knows-what on his phone. Brendon knocks on the window on the passenger's side to get his attention, and when Pete unlocks the door, he slips inside and tugs on the seatbelt.

Pete sniggers at him before pulling out of the parking lot. Brendon crosses his arms and scowls. "What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing." Pete giggles again and throws him a sideways glance. "Interesting choice of outfit you have there."

Brendon looks at the clothes he's wearing. A brown graphic tee that he has since freshman year, an old red hoodie, and a faded black jeans. "It's not like we're going to a fancy place anyway." Brendon shrugs, but he has a feeling that he'll be regretting wearing them when he notices the glint in Pete's eyes.

"No, not a fancy place." Pete shakes his head, smiling, his eyes on the road. "Just to Patrick's surprise birthday party."

 _"What?!"_ Brendon screeches out as he grabs Pete's arm, frightening the driver in the process. Pete lets out a terrified scream and almost swerves the car to the next lane, but manages to get back in control of the vehicle. "What the fuck, dude?! You almost killed us!"

"You didn't tell me it's Patrick's birthday today!" Brendon screams back and pulls the sun visor down for the mirror, doing his best to tame his disheveled hair. "Oh my God, turn the car around! Turn the fucking car around! I want to change my clothes!"

"Dude, no! Everyone's already there!"

"I can't let Patrick see me like this!"

Pete lets out a snort. "What are you so embarrassed about? Patrick's already seen you in nothing."

Blushing, Brendon punches him in the arm. "Shut up. Do you have something to wear?"

"I think I have a jacket in the backseat."

Brendon unbuckles the seatbelt as he twists his body around to search for the said jacket, and he finds one laying on the seat. He reaches for it and shrugs off his own hoodie, replacing it with Pete's black leather jacket. "Hey, this is a cool jacket. Do you have hair gel?"

Pete glances at him incredulously. "Does my car look like Walmart to you?"

Brendon raises his eyebrows, and Pete presses his lips together. " _Fine._ Glove compartment."

He takes out the hair gel and begins styling his hair. It isn't nearly as nice as he'd hoped it to be - even far from how Gerard styled it - but at least it's better than a messy bedhead. He hums the birthday tune under his breath, excited to be a part of the celebration, and that's when a thought suddenly hits him like a ton of bricks. "Wait, I didn't get him a present!"

Pete sends a smirk in his direction. "I have a feeling that you being there is a present enough."

Brendon opens his mouth to ask what he means by that, but Pete interrupts him. "Call Patrick. Tell him that you left something in the store."

"Why?" His forehead creases in confusion as he unlocks his phone, opening the call log.

"We're having the party there. In the room where he uses it for teaching. The store is closed today, but Patrick has the spare key. We spent the whole night decorating the room."

That's a well-thought out plan, even if it sounds like he's being used in order to draw Patrick to the store. He presses on Patrick's name and places the phone next to his ear, waiting for the dial to ring.

_"Brendon? What is it?"_

Brendon almost chuckles at Patrick's voice. Looks like he's not the only one who plans to continue sleeping at this time of day. "Sorry for waking you up, but I think I left something in the store the last time I went there. I really need it."

He hears the sound of bed sheet rustling in the background, followed by a small yawn. _"Give me thirty minutes."_

"Okay, I'll see you at the store."

_"Mm- okay."_

Brendon laughs at Patrick's sleepy voice. "Hey, now. Don't fall back asleep, sleepyhead."

 _"Okay, okay."_ It's weird how he can almost _hear_ Patrick's smile behind those words. _"I'll be there. Bye, Brendon."_

"He didn't yell at you?" Pete suddenly questions him after he pockets his phone. Brendon looks at him weirdly. "No? Why would he?"

"That's not fair." Pete whines loudly. "He's always grumpy if someone wakes him up. He even threw a pillow at me when I did that!"

At Pete's words, hope begins to sprout in his chest. Is it bad if he starts thinking that Patrick also harbors feelings for him?

The rest of the journey to the music store is filled with the music from the radio. Brendon tries to distract himself from his thoughts by playing some games on his phone, and before he knows it, they've already arrived at the store.

"He should be here anytime soon." Pete breaks the silence between them as he types away in his phone. "I texted the others to get ready."

Brendon nods. "So, what's the plan?"

"When he's here, just say that you left your notes or something in the room. And after he opens the door and walks in, we yell surprise." Pete grins at him. "Simple, isn't it?"

"I still feel bad that I didn't get him anything." Brendon frowns. If Pete gave him a heads up much earlier, then he'd have time to buy something nice for Patrick.

Pete shuts off the engine and unlocks the door when Patrick's car comes into view. Before Brendon steps out, Pete calls him, smirking. "You got him pregnant. That's more than enough."

Brendon glares at him, reeling his fist back and punching him in the shoulder while Pete is laughing at his own joke. "Knock it off already. Geez."

They meet Patrick at the front of the shop. Patrick still looks sleepy, and judging from the dark rings under his eyes, he probably couldn't sleep again last night. Brendon wishes he can take all the pain Patrick's experiencing so he doesn't have to suffer anymore.

"What are you doing here, Pete?" Patrick hides his yawn behind his fist before fishing his key out of the pocket of his hoodie. Ever since his stomach has gotten big, Patrick has been wearing a lot of oversize hoodies.

"Well, _somebody_ has to babysit our friend here." Pete throws his arm around Brendon's neck, and it looks almost comical, considering that Brendon is taller than him. Brendon elbows him in the ribs. " _Somebody_ promised me breakfast because he woke me up when I was sleeping."

Patrick opens the door and heads straight for the room in the back. Brendon and Pete follows after him, nodding at each other. _When Patrick turns on the light, yell 'Surprise!'._

After the back room is unlocked, Brendon holds his breath in anticipation as Patrick rubs his hand on the wall to search for the light switch.

_"Surprise!"_

Patrick jolts at the sudden loud voices and the multiple people in the room. "Guys…"

Pete nods to Brendon, and they both pull Patrick to the center of the room, where a large birthday cake with the candles all lit is placed on a table. Everyone begin to sing the birthday song as Patrick stands between them, smiling sheepishly.

"Happy birthday, Patrick!"

"Blow the candles!"

"Make a wish!"

More shouts are heard in the room, but Brendon only has his eyes on the smile on Patrick's face. Patrick closes his eyes as he stands in front of the cake, and he blows the candles out a few seconds later. The room erupts into claps and cheers.

Brendon wonders what Patrick wished for.

"Okay, okay! Everyone quiet down!" Pete hollers, catching everyone's attention. Brendon notices the grin on Pete's face, and before he can escape, Pete has already grasped his wrist. "Since everyone's here today, I want to introduce you to someone."

_Oh my God._

_No way._

_No._

"This is Brendon." Pete begins as he slaps his back. Brendon almost stumbles forward from the force of it. "Most of you may know him as _the kid._ "

A round of stifled laughters and snickers is heard around the room, Joe being the loudest, and Brendon resists the urge to cover his face in embarrassment.

"And to some of you-" Pete smirks, "- _Patrick's baby daddy._ "

"You go, Patrick's baby daddy!" Gabe whistles and raises his fist in the air, getting a loud cheer from everyone in response. Brendon groans inwardly and walks away from Pete and to Patrick's side. "Kill me. I'm begging you." He laments to him.

Patrick pats his back sympathetically as he sips on a cup of fruit punch. "Don't worry. Gabe's the only who calls you that. His nicknames don't usually last long anyway."

Pete skips over to them and grabs their hands, beaming. "C'mon. Let's introduce Brendon to everyone."

Brendon gives a horrified look to Patrick, his eyes begging for the older man to save him. Luck isn't on his side, unfortunately, as Patrick grins in agreement and drags Brendon to meet their friends.

"You've met Joe and Andy." Patrick introduces him to the other two shop workers. "Andy's the nicest one here," he continues, in which he receives two offended cries from Pete and Joe.

He remembers Andy when they first met at the shop. Andy didn't call him _the kid_ , and he even scolded Joe for calling him with that nickname. He's grateful for Andy for that. "Nice to meet you." He smiles.

"Likewise." Andy returns his smile, then, "if any of the guys harass you, just tell me. I'll gladly kick their asses for you, especially Joe and Pete's."

Brendon laughs as his nerves begin to ease a little. "Thanks, man."

"See? What did I say? Nicest." Patrick grins. "And Joe's friendly, but he can be annoying as hell, so feel free to hand his ass to Andy anytime."

"Hey, I'm not annoying." Joe protests as he drapes his arm around Brendon's shoulders. "I'm really nice. I swear."

"Right." Patrick, Pete, and Andy snort at the same time, and Brendon chuckles at the four friends. They look really close, and they remind him of his friendship with Spencer and Dallon.

"Let's introduce you to others." This time, Patrick brings him to another group of friends, and he frowns when he sees a familiar red head.

"Kid." Gerard greets him, voice deadpan. Brendon levels his gaze with the red-haired man. "Old man."

A short, black-haired guy standing next to Gerard laughs and pats his back. "I like you, kid. You've got guts. I'm Frank." He introduces himself and sticks his hand out. Brendon beams and shakes his hand. This Frank dude seems pretty cool. "Brendon."

"I know." Frank smirks, amusement glinting in his eyes. "I assume you've met Mikey. This tall guy here-" he points his finger to the guy standing next to Mikey, "-is Ray."

The name sounds familiar to him. He goes over the name in his brain a few times until it finally clicks. "Ray the tattoo guy?"

"At your service." Ray smiles at him, shaking his hand. "I heard you want to get some tattoos done?"

Brendon flicks his gaze to Mikey, who shrugs at him. "Yeah. But not now. Maybe soon."

"You're getting a tattoo?" Patrick asks him, eyes widening in surprise. Brendon beams and nods at him. "I've got a couple on my arm, actually."

"Yeah." Mikey quips in with a smirk. "He told me he's planning to get a full tattoo sleeve."

Patrick stares at him, not saying a word. Mikey wasn't kidding when he said Patrick has a thing for tattoo sleeves, because he can see Patrick's eyes darken- just like that night when they're grinding against each other.

He's definitely getting one as soon as he has enough money for it.

He breaks his gaze with Patrick's when Gerard clears his throat. "I can draw you some designs."

Ray's face brightens up, and he turns to Brendon. "That's great! Gee's really awesome at drawing. You should let him draw you some."

Brendon scowls when he sees the smirk on Gerard's face. "What's the catch, old man?"

"I've tattoo-ed for a few other people before. Would be nice if I can get in the business again." He sighs dramatically at the end of his sentence. Brendon rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, knowing full well at what Gerard is implying. "Yeah, no. I'm letting you nowhere near my skin _and my hair_ ever again."

"Gee," Patrick sighs, stopping their feud. "What did you do?"

Gerard turns to Patrick and jabs his thumb in Brendon's direction. "What do you think of the kid's hair?"

"It looks pretty good." Patrick creases his forehead, confused. "Why?"

"He called it _simple_! Can you believe it? I did not spend _years_ in beauty school for a _kid_ to call _my_ work _simple!_ " Gerard complains, and Brendon scoffs at his dramatic flair and childish attitude. "And he calls _me_ a kid," he mutters under his breath.

"What did you just say, you _brat?_ "

"I'm-" Brendon doesn't get to finish his sentence as Patrick has already covered his mouth with his hand. He huffs and crosses his arms while Frank and Pete are already laughing their heads off at the side.

"Language, Gee." Patrick scolds him. "Be nice."

Now it's Brendon's turn to smirk when Gerard purses his lip in almost-defeat. "He started it." He grumbles, pouting.

"And I'm ending it. I expect _both_ of you to behave, is that clear?" Patrick states firmly, looking over from Gerard to Brendon and lowering his hand. _"Is that clear?"_

"Yes." Gerard glares at him. Brendon returns the glare with the same amount of intensity. "Crystal."

"Good." Patrick beams and holds Brendon's hand, and his previous anger just slips away at the contact. "Now, let's cut the cake before Gabe decides to have a food fight. I'm starving."

-

Earlier, Brendon would have thought that he wouldn't fit in with Patrick's friends- partly because he's a newcomer in the group, and partly because he's the youngest out of everyone. However, he was proven wrong, because he fit in just fine within ten minutes into the party.

Patrick wasn't kidding when he said Joe was friendly. Joe had so much to talk about, and Brendon really enjoyed talking to him. Andy, on the other hand, even though he's more on the quiet side, had the most wittiest remarks ready on the tip of his tongue. He trumped everything Joe and Pete said with just a single sentence, and it's the most savage thing Brendon's ever witnessed.

Andy's just that cool. Especially with his tattoos.

Ray was nice, too. And polite. They talked about tattoo designs, and Brendon finally comes up with one in mind that he sets on getting when he has enough money for it. Frank was just like Pete, that's all Brendon could say. And Gabe. Gabe's like a taller version of Pete. Guess every group has their own Pete.

He's probably the Pete in his group of friends.

Brendon shudders at the thought. That's one scary thing to think of.

He looks to his right when he feels a tug on his hand. Patrick is smiling up at him, and he points to the door, gesturing for Brendon to follow him.

Once they manage to slip of the room without anyone noticing, they sit down on the small stage, their legs stretched out in front of them. Brendon rolls his shoulders and his neck, getting rid of the knots in them. "Oh, man. Thanks for getting me out. No offense, I love your friends, but…"

"But they can be a handful sometimes, I know." Patrick chuckles as he leans back on his hand. "That's why I brought you out here. You looked like you needed a break."

"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything." Brendon says quietly after a few seconds of silence. He felt extremely guilty when he walked into the room and saw a mountain of presents on the table. Everyone bought presents and worked hard to decorate the room, but him? He didn't even do anything.

"Hey, it's okay. You didn't have to." Patrick reassures him and clasps a hand on his shoulder. "So, when's your birthday?"

Brendon shrugs and chuckles, failing to keep the bitterness out. Dallon and Spencer both went back to their hometowns that weekend, so they couldn't celebrate together, but they did send him a text, wishing him. His parents and siblings also called to wish him, but it's nothing when he had no one to celebrate with. "A couple of weeks ago. Twelfth, to be exact."

"Brendon…" Patrick looks at him in a way that Brendon can't really name. Is it sadness? Sympathy? _Pity?_ "Why didn't you tell me? We could have celebrated together."

"What for? Everyone was too busy for me anyway." He picks at the lint on his jeans before looking up at the older man, plastering a smile to light up the atmosphere between them. "But, anyway, let's stop the pity fest. Today's all about you. Not me."

Brendon's eyes widen when Patrick wraps his arms around him. There's a soft press of lips against his cheek, but it's gone before his brain can even register it happening.

"Next year, you'll have a family to celebrate with you."

-

_"Are you coming over later?"_

"Yeah, I'm on my way now, actually." Brendon answers and turns to Pete when he feels a nudge on his side. "Uh, hold on. Pete's here. Let me put you on speaker."

"What, you're ditching me for Brendon now?" Pete teases him after Brendon clicks on the speaker button. He almost laughs when he hears Patrick scoff over the line. _"Where are you guys now? Is Pete driving?"_

"Just ten minutes away from your place," Brendon says. "Yeah, he's driving. My car broke down, so I called him to drive me."

_"You don't have to do that, Brendon. We can always meet up some other time. I don't mind."_

Happiness blossoms in his chest at Patrick's worried tone. It feels good knowing that Patrick cares for him. "It's okay. I want to see you." He blushes slightly when he realizes what he just said. _Way to be cheesy._ "A- and the baby. I miss him," he covers up.

Pete snorts beside him as they come across a yellow traffic light. Instead of slowing down, he presses down on the gas pedal. "Oh my God. Get a room, you two."

"You're the one who asked me to put the speaker on." Brendon scowls, defending himself and Patrick. "Anyway, did you want something?"

_"Um, yeah. Can you get me ice-cream?"_

Another craving, probably. "Sure. What flavour?"

_"Vanilla."_

Pete starts to giggle uncontrollably, and he knows the sound travels straight to Patrick's line because he can hear Patrick's frustrated groan. _"I swear to God, Pete, if you make some stupid ass comment about my sex life, I will tell Gee and Mikey to mess with your hair in your next appointment."_

"I didn't say anything!" Pete says in between his fit of laughter. "You're the one who said it, not me."

_"Just get here in the next twenty minutes with my ice-cream, dickhead._

Patrick ends the call before he gets to say goodbye. Brendon sighs and pockets his phone, pouting. "Way to go, Pete. Patrick's probably pissed as fuck right now."

Just as Pete's laughter dissolves into snickers, he erupts into laughter again as he parks outside a convenience store. "Oh, come on. Even you have to admit he looks cute when he's angry."

Brendon smiles, thinking of the time when Patrick screamed in his face after he made a remark about his height.

"Yeah, he does."

-

"Patrick?" Brendon calls his name as he steps into the apartment. "Ice-cream's here!"

Patrick pops out from behind the couch with a wide grin, his large glasses sliding down his nose. "Bring it to the kitchen!"

Brendon chuckles to himself when Patrick follows him with a waddle in his steps. Lately, Patrick has been waddling more rather than walking, and it shouldn't be hilarious to him, but it is. Brendon just can't help it.

Patrick looks like a penguin in pajamas with glasses.

He watches silently as Patrick takes four giant scoops out of the ice-cream carton and transfers them into a large bowl, then digs out half a lemon from the fridge and squeezes the juice into the ice-cream.

"Does it taste good?" Brendon finds himself asking, curious about the combination of the flavour. He's heard of the infamous myth that pregnant people tend to have weird cravings, and so far Patrick has normal cravings that he knows of- donuts, smoothies, ice-cream, lemons.

But this is the first time he's seen Patrick mix his ice-cream with lemons.

"You wanna try?" Patrick holds up the bowl for him as he searches for a spoon in one of the drawers. Brendon shakes his head. "No thanks. I don't want to kill my taste buds."

Patrick shoots him a dirty look and lightly punches him on the chest before moving - _waddling_ , Brendon tries so hard to not burst into laughter as he trails from behind - into the living room.

A movie is already playing on the television when they both sit down next to each other. It has become a tradition for them to give out funny commentaries in any scenes, and they usually use horror movies for this purpose. It just makes everything funnier and less scary.

At first, Brendon would've thought that Patrick doesn't enjoy doing this kind of thing. That maybe Patrick would find it annoying to talk during movies, like some of his friends and siblings. Imagine his relief when he found out that Patrick _does_ enjoy doing it.

Brendon is even more convinced that they most _definitely_ belong together.

He snaps his neck in Patrick's direction when Patrick gasps suddenly. "Hey, you okay?" He asks, muting the television.

"Oh my God…" Patrick whispers to himself before grinning to Brendon. He takes Brendon's hand and rests both their hands together on his bump. Brendon, still clueless at what's happening, is just about to ask Patrick when he feels it.

"Is- is that…?" Brendon questions, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah." Patrick answers him, excitement showing in his voice. "The baby just kicked! Brendon, the baby just kicked!"

He glances up and sees Patrick smiling softly at his bump, hand caressing gently. It's easily the most beautiful sight his eyes have ever laid on. Patrick has that glow surrounding him, making him even more lovely than he already is.

Making him even more surreal than he already is.

Without thinking, Brendon leans forward and catches Patrick's lips with his, kissing him softly. Patrick squeaks in surprise, but soon melts into the kiss as he threads his fingers in Brendon's hair. His hands slide up to cradle Patrick's face and he pulls him close, deepening the kiss.

It feels nice. It's everything Brendon has ever thought it would be. Patrick's lips are soft, and he tastes like the vanilla ice-cream he ate minutes ago, with a hint of lemon. For a moment, he wonders what else does the older man taste like on other parts of his body.

He reluctantly pulls away for air and returns back to his side, light panting from both of them is the only sound heard in the room. Brendon wants to kiss him again, and again and again throughout the whole night until they both fall asleep or until his lips are numb. It's crazy how just one kiss - one that he can remember - can already get him addicted to the feeling. The room is filled with awkward silence after that, neither knowing how to break it.

"So, um," Patrick clears his throat, "that was nice."

"Y- Yeah." Brendon stammers and looks down at his fingers, fighting his blush down.

"Do you, um- you can say no, but, do you, maybe, want to do it ag-"

Brendon kisses him again before Patrick gets to finish his question.

-

Brendon ignores the strange looks he's been receiving from his roommate as he tucks in his bed sheet and fluffs his pillow. He moves to his messy desk and arranges all the cluttered papers into one stack.

"Is someone coming over?" Tyler questions and grabs his bag to get ready for his class.

"Yeah." Brendon answers simply with a grin on his face.

"Should I stay in someone else's room tonight?" Tyler raises his eyebrow in suspicion, tone dubious.

Brendon doubts that he's going to do anything remotely sexual with Patrick, considering that they've never talked about the kiss the other night. "You don't have to, but feel free, though."

Tyler rolls his eyes playfully and leaves to go for his class, but he stops by the doorframe and calls Brendon's name. "Make sure to put a sock outside."

He narrowly dodges the paper ball Brendon throws him and laughs, closing the door. Brendon sighs at Tyler's cheeky remark, but that doesn't stop the hope from bubbling in his chest. Of course he wants more from Patrick, but he's not going to ask for it. He's lucky enough that Patrick allows him to be a part of their baby's life.

When he picks up the paper ball on the floor, he hears knocks on the door. _Patrick's early._

He tosses the paper ball into the bin and opens the door, a wide smile on his face. But when he sees that it's not Patrick, he drops the smile and replaces it with a confused frown. "Ryan?"

"Hey." Ryan greets quietly. "Can I come in?"

Brendon opens the door wider, stepping aside so Ryan can enter. To say that he's surprised at seeing his ex knocking on his door is an understatement. They haven't contacted each other since they broke up, which was last year. Just a month before Pete's party.

He closes the door and turns to Ryan, who is standing in the middle of the room, looking around. Brendon clears his throat. "So, uh, what are you doing here?"

"You've cleaned up well." Ryan smiles at him, a little awkward. "New hair and all."

"So have you, I guess." Brendon replies just as awkward and scratches the back of his head. "Well? Not to be mean or anything, but why are you here?"

Ryan fidgets in his spot for a while before taking a deep breath, looking into Brendon's eyes. "I know we broke up on bad terms last time, but I- I want a closure, if that's okay with you."

"Y- Yeah, sure." Brendon remembers the moment when they broke up, or more specifically, when Ryan broke up with him. It was too sudden. They were fine and happy together for months, but then one night, he received a two-word text from Ryan that ended everything- _We're done._

"That text-" Ryan begins, "-I want to apologize for it. I should have at least give you a reason why I broke up with you."

Brendon sits on his chair and looks over to Ryan sitting on Tyler's bed. "Was it something I did? Because if it was, I'm sorry."

Ryan shakes his head, but stops halfway. "It's not just you. It's us. What both of us did." Brendon is perplexed at his answer, not really getting where Ryan is going, so he waits patiently for Ryan to elaborate.

"I- I had a lot of thoughts back then. The bad kind. And I couldn't get them out of my head." Ryan's voice becomes quiet, and he looks down at the floor. Brendon immediately sits up straight, knowing where this is heading. "Ryan, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean a single thing-"

"No!" Ryan cuts him off, panicking. "Oh God, no. Bren, it wasn't what you said, I swear. Don't blame yourself for it. I know you didn't mean it. We both said some shitty stuff to each other when we're mad, but we never meant anything by them."

Brendon looks at him sadly. Even if they didn't mean it, the words still hurt- to him, at least. Pierced straight through his heart and embedded deep into his brain. And Ryan must have felt the same way. "I'm sorry."

"It- it's okay. Don't worry. I'm sorry too." Ryan sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Anyway, back then, I should've come to you and told you what had been happening in my head, but I didn't. I pushed you away instead."

"And I pretended like everything's fine." Brendon continues, his face crestfallen when Ryan nods slightly. "I didn't ask how you were feeling. I didn't do anything to make you feel better."

Ryan's silence just confirms everything Brendon has said, and Brendon feels worse now. He was a selfish dick back then, it's no surprise that Ryan broke it off with him.

"I'm really sorry, Ryan." He apologizes again. "I shouldn't have done that."

Ryan stands up and smoothes the wrinkles in his shirt, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "It's okay. I'm fine now. I've been in therapy, so there's that."

"And I'm sorry, too. Truce?" Ryan extends his hand out. Brendon smiles and walks over to him, feeling like an old weight has been lifted off of his shoulders, and shakes his hand. "Truce."

Ryan pulls him into a hug then, and Brendon wraps his arms around him. After clearing up whatever that had happened between them, Brendon feels light and relieved. He doesn't have to spend the rest of his life wondering what he did that made everything go south between them.

When Brendon moves away, he doesn't expect to be kissed by Ryan. He stands frozen on his spot, surprised, unable to pull away or push the other boy back.

Ryan is the first to pull away, a horrified expression on his face. "Oh- Oh my God…"

"N- No, it's okay." Brendon stumbles over his words as he tries to push the unsettling feeling out of his mind. He understands why Ryan kissed him, sort of. Back when they used to date each other, it's habitual for them to kiss after they hug. Old habits die hard.

"I should go." Ryan mumbles and takes a few steps back before turning to the door, and his small gasp catches Brendon's attention. He looks up, heart almost jumping out of his chest. "P- Patrick…"

Patrick is standing by the doorframe, looking small under the oversize hoodie he's wearing. Brendon can't read the expression Patrick has on his face, and his eyes are even harder to read.

"This- this isn't what it looks like," Ryan quickly says to Patrick, holding his hands up. "We're not dating each other, I swear."

A tense silence fills the room, and no one dares to break it. Brendon's feet is glued to the floor, Ryan is shaking and breathing heavily next to him, and Patrick is just standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

Patrick chuckles and moves slightly to the side, scratching his sideburn. "Sorry. Had I known you two were doing something, I would've knocked first."

"N- No, w- we weren't." It's clear that Ryan is on his way to a panic attack in this situation, and Brendon doesn't know how to help him without making everything even more tense.

"Hey, it's okay." Patrick smiles at Ryan. "I was just teasing. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sorry."

Ryan calms down considerably, his breathing normal now. He returns the smile and looks at Brendon. "Thank you."

 _Thank you for giving us a closure._ Brendon nods and watches Ryan walk away, leaving him alone with Patrick. The smile slips from Patrick's face, and Brendon tries to slow his racing heartbeat down. He's never been this scared before- not even when he had to tell his family about Patrick.

"Patrick…" Brendon calls his name, cautious. "That- that didn't mean anything. I swear."

Patrick laughs lightly under his breath, and Brendon thinks he hear a small sob in between. "No. I get it. I mean, you're only here for the baby. It's not like we have feelings for each other or anything."

But he _does_ have feelings for Patrick. And he's here for Patrick, too, not just for the baby. "Patrick…"

Patrick sighs and ruffles his own hair, closing his eyes briefly. "You're free to date whoever you want, Brendon. Don't let me or the baby hold you back."

He wills for his body to move, but none of his muscles obey him. Brendon's forced to stand there as his heart cracks in the middle, splitting into two.

"And, hey, don't worry about the baby." Patrick continues, his voice tight, just like his smile. "You're still the father, I'm not going to stop you from seeing him."

"Anyway, I should get going. I just remembered I have an errand to run." When Patrick turns around to leave, Brendon finally finds the courage to speak up. "Patrick, wait."

The said man pauses, head tilted slightly to look at him from over his shoulder, giving him one last chance. Brendon opens his mouth to explain everything, to say that everything was a misunderstanding, but nothing comes out. His voice is caught in his throat when he sees the glistening tears in Patrick's eyes.

The beautiful eyes that hold such fire and life, but now they hold nothing but pure heartbreak and tears.

Patrick's expression shutters at the stretched silence, and he turns his head back to the front. "Bye, Brendon."

As he watches Patrick disappear from his sight, a drop of tear falls from the corner of his eye before he realizes that he's crying.

They always say their goodbyes to each other before they leave, but this time, Patrick's _goodbye_ sounds like their last.

-

He looks at his phone for the umpteenth time that day. Patrick hasn't returned any of his calls and texts since the last time they had seen each other. Brendon had thought that if he gave Patrick a few days to cool off, then maybe the older man would listen to him.

But instead, the opposite happens.

It's like he just disappears off of the surface of the Earth, leaving a Patrick-shaped hole in his heart and his life. Patrick also hasn't been in his apartment, because he'd been there a few times and no one answered.

Pete doesn't know where Patrick is staying either, but he swears to him that Patrick isn't at his place.

He stares at his phone one last time before placing it next to his pillow, huffing in frustration. _Way to go, Brendon._

"Do- do you want to talk?" Tyler nervously asks, his voice low and quiet.

Brendon rolls over facing the wall and closes his eyes. "Just shut up."

-

Nine days. It's been nine days since Patrick caught him and Ryan kissing each other.

Nine days since he saw the tears in Patrick's eyes.

Nine days since he felt nothing but heartbreak.

He sighs and looks back to his laptop, staring at the blinking cursor awaiting his next word. He can't even focus on his project and assignments. This whole thing with Patrick is worse than his break-up with Ryan.

At least, with Ryan, he knows they were in a relationship.

With Patrick, he doesn't even know what they are. _Were._

His ringing phone pulls him out of his thoughts, and when he sees Pete's name, he quickly scrambles to answer. "Pete! Pete- is- is he okay? Did something happen? Is he in the hospital? What-"

_"Brendon, calm down. Patrick's fine. The baby's fine."_

Brendon lets out an audible relieved sigh and sits down on his bed, one hand running down his face in agitation. "Thank fuck. I- I thought something bad happened to them."

_"Nothing happened. I called to check up on you. You okay, man?"_

"I'm still alive, if that counts as okay."

_"Yeah, okay. I'll take that answer."_

"How- how's Patrick?" He timidly asks.

_"He's… y'know, coping. But he's back at his place. Thought you'd like to know that."_

"Do you think I can see him again?"

There's silence on the other side of the line, and Brendon already knows the answer. "It's fine. Just keep me updated with his progress?"

_"I'm really sorry, Brendon. I'll try to talk to him again."_

"Please." Brendon begs, desperation heard clearly in his voice. "I need to explain everything to him. Nothing happened the other day, I swear. He just kissed me out of nowhere and-"

_"Brendon, seriously, calm down. I believe you."_

"Thanks." He mumbles into his phone, feeling a tad bit relieved, but just not quite.

_"Okay, listen. I got a plan. I'll get you to see him."_

"I have a feeling that there's a 'but' coming."

He hears Pete cackle from over the line. _"_ But _regardless if the plan worked or not, Patrick will cut our heads off after. You know how he is."_

Brendon laughs, relief flooding over him. He just can't wait to see Patrick again. Even if Patrick _literally_ cut his head off, at least he gets to see him for the last time. He's going to make everything right again between them. He's going to make everything be what it should've been all along- him and Patrick together with _their_ baby.

Not just his. Not just Patrick's. But _theirs._

He definitely owes Pete a lot for everything…

Brendon shakes his head and smiles. "No, Pete. You know what? I'll take care of this one myself."

_"Are you sure?"_

"Yeah, I am. I can't keep depending on you to fix my mess. I need to do this on my own." His confidence grows with each word, and he feels more alive than he's ever been in the past nine days as his brain churns out ideas on how to get Patrick back.

_"My boy's growing up so fast. I'm so proud of you."_

Brendon laughs and gets up from his bed, raiding his closet for a set of clean outfit. "Wish me luck."

_"May the force be with you, young grasshopper."_

"Thanks, but those are two different movies, Pete."

_"Dude, just get your butt out of your room and make my best friend happy again."_

-

Brendon glances at his reflection one last time on the window of his car, fixing his hair and tie. He's wearing a pair of black pants, a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a skinny black tie loosened around his neck to match. He figures that if he's going to get Patrick back, he might as well dress up for it.

He wipes his glasses with the hem of his shirt before putting it on his face. Satisfied with his look, he marches up to Patrick's apartment and takes a few deep breath when he's in front of Patrick's door.

_Here we go._

He raps his knuckles on the door twice, hearing a muffled _"Coming!"_ from the inside. His knees are trembling, and he suddenly wishes that he had bought something for Patrick before coming here- like a bouquet of flowers or something.

When he hears a thump, followed by a loud groan, a wave of terror hits him. He scrambles to get the spare key out of his pocket and, after a few failed attempts, manages to unlock the door, his heart almost stopping when he sees Patrick laying on the floor, one hand cradling his stomach and face contorting in pain.

In a blink of an eye, he's already by Patrick's side, wrapping his arm around Patrick and helping him up. He brings Patrick to the couch and sits him down gently before taking a seat beside him.

Patrick rubs his stomach, and his fingers grip the fabric of the couch as he winces in pain. "Hey, calm down in there."

From all the stories that his parents had told him and his siblings when they were kids, one stands out the most in his mind in this situation. His father would sing to his pregnant mother whenever the baby wouldn't stop moving, so that's exactly what he does.

Brendon scoots closer to Patrick and places a hand on Patrick's stomach, feeling the continuous movement under his palm, and strokes gently.

 _"Love me tender, love me sweet,_  
_And never let me go_  
_You have made my life complete_  
_And I love you so…"_

The baby's movement slows down when Brendon starts singing, almost as if the baby can hear his voice. Patrick also relaxes, feeling not so much in pain as he was before, and leans back into the couch.

 _"Love me tender, love me true,_  
_and all my dreams fulfilled…"_

Brendon pauses and bites his lip, his hand stilling, and he flicks his eyes to meet Patrick's blue ones. _The ones that he misses so much._

_"For my darling, I love you and I always will…"_

He holds Patrick's gaze, both silent and just looking into each other eyes, until Patrick breaks away first, opting to look down at his stomach, mumbling, "Didn't know you're an Elvis Presley fan."

"Frank Sinatra." Brendon corrects him. Normally, he would go off on a tangent about how talented the artist was or how people would always mix up the artist with other similar ones like Elvis Presley or The Beatles, but right now he's too giddy that Patrick's speaking to him again to even begin a speech.

Patrick glances at him from the corner of his eyes, arching his eyebrow. "The song was originally sung by Elvis."

"Didn't know you're an Elvis Presley fan." He repeats Patrick's words, getting a shrug in return. "I'm more to Elvis Costello. Or Bowie."

They fall into silence once again. Bredon almost forgets the reason why he's there in the first place until Patrick's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. "Why did you choose that song?"

Brendon shifts to sit sideways and faces Patrick, grasping Patrick's hand. "Because that's what I'm feeling right now."

"I'm serious, Patrick." Brendon continues, voice earnest, when he sees the skeptical look the other man gives him. "Ryan came the other day because he wanted a closure between us. We dated, yeah, but that was in the past."

Patrick presses his lips into a thin line, not saying anything. Brendon squeezes Patrick's hand to give reassurance to himself and breathes in deep. "You were right. At first, I just wanted to be a part of the baby's life, but the more we spent time together, the more we got to know each other, the more I realized that I wanted to be a part of your life and the deeper I fell in love with you."

He brings his hand up to Patrick's chin, turning his face so he can look at him. "So, to your statement the other day, yes. I _was_ only here for the baby, but I _am_ here for you and the baby now. And I'm sure of my feelings even before Ryan kissed me." Brendon finishes calmly, his gaze softening when Patrick's face falters.

Patrick drops his gaze to their joined hands, and Brendon can see millions of thoughts and questions flickering behind his eyes. "If you're already sure of your feelings, then why did you let Ryan kissed you?" Patrick's voice grows quiet, almost to a whisper. "You didn't pull away."

"I was surprised. I didn't know he was going to kiss me," Brendon says as he brushes Patrick's hand with his thumb. "But I'm glad it happened, because I get to know how you feel about me. You have to at least feel something for me if you're crying, right?"

"In a way, Ryan's kiss was kinda like a wake up call for you, huh?" Brendon teases him and laughs softly, but becomes serious again when Patrick squeezes his eyes shut and bows his head down, a drop of tear rolling down his cheek. He wipes the tear away with his thumb and cups Patrick's face with both of his hands, turning his head towards him.

"Patrick, hey, look at me." Brendon whispers gently, watching as Patrick slowly opens his eyes, revealing the unshed tears just threatening to fall any second. It twists his heart in a painful way to see Patrick crying, especially if he was, either directly or undirectly, the reason behind it. On top of a physical pain from carrying a life inside him, Patrick definitely doesn't need any more burden to add in his life- in this case, emotional burden.

"I love you, Patrick. I really do."

He pulls Patrick to his chest and strokes Patrick's strawberry blonde hair, no longer bleached now. It feels soft under his fingers, and if it were up to him, he'd prefer it if Patrick keeps his natural hair colour.

Patrick lowers his head, hiding his face from Brendon, and clings to the back of Brendon's shirt as his body starts to wrack with sobs. Brendon doesn't say anything. He lets the other man cry and holds him close, squeezing him tight to remind him that he's here.

After a few minutes, his sobbings have slowed down and replaced with small hiccups, but still Brendon doesn't loosen his hold around him once, even if his shirt is now damped with Patrick's tears.

"W- When I saw you two kissing-" Patrick starts, his voice stuttering with hiccups and slightly muffled by Brendon's shirt, "-I really thought you're just here for the baby. I thought you didn't feel the same."

"Of course I do." Brendon pulls back a little until Patrick is at arm's length and wipes the trails of tears away with his thumbs before looking into Patrick's eyes, seeing the raw emotions, hope and fear, swirling together behind his blue orbs, hiding the third emotion. "Do you love me?"

"Yes." Patrick answers within a heartbeat and without a doubt, and clasps Brendon's hands together in his. With just one word, Brendon can see love shining brightly in Patrick's eyes, overshadowing the other two. "I do. I love you, Brendon."

Brendon smiles at his answer and tilts Patrick's head upwards, a tender warmth blossoming in his chest and spreading throughout his body as he kisses Patrick softly. This feels way better than their first kiss. Their first _sober_ kiss that is, because he's pretty sure their actual one was fueled with nothing but alcohol and pure lust.

Patrick's lips taste a little salty from his previous crying, but Brendon doesn't mind it one bit. It just means that what Patrick feels for him is real.

Brendon pulls back slightly, giving Patrick a confused look when he gasps into the kiss. "Oh. Looks like we're not the only ones happy at this turn of event." Patrick smiles as he strokes his growing bump. Brendon's face brightens up, and he places his hand near Patrick's and leans down to kiss his stomach. "I love you too, Little Bear. Did you miss me?"

He feels a kick and beams. "How much did you miss me? Kick once for a little, and twice for a lot."

His face splits into a grin when he feels two consecutive taps against his palm. Brendon laughs and drops another kiss, cooing, "Aww, I miss you so much, Little Bear! From now on, Papa Bear promises to never leave you and Mama Bear, okay? We'll be a happy family together."

When he looks up, Patrick is rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms, lips quivering and breath hitching every few seconds. He knows he shouldn't, but the temptation is far too great to resist, even though his brain is already flashing bright red alarm at what he's about to do. "Are you crying again?"

"N- No!" Patrick sniffles and glares at him, his eyes puffy and the tip of his nose pink, and kicks Brendon's shin. "Shut up. It's the baby!"

 _When was the last time he heard that excuse?_ Brendon laughs and encircles his arms around Patrick while making mental notes to put some ice on his leg later. "Looks like our Little Bear's pretty emotional."

Patrick mumbles out a timid _"yeah"_ , and Brendon's heart flutters when he feels a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. He buries his nose in Patrick's hair just as Patrick snuggles closer to him.

"Don't worry. Whatever happens, Papa Bear will always be there with you."

-

Oh my God. He's freaking out.

He can't do this.

He's not ready.

_There's too much pressure._

"Hey!" Brendon cries out when Patrick slaps him on the cheek lightly. "What was that for?!"

"You're freaking out." Patrick gives him an obvious look before caressing the spot where he slapped earlier. "Calm down. You're going to do fine in your presentation."

That's right. His final presentation about his project is about to start in three hours. _Wait._ He checks his watch again, eyes almost popping out of the sockets.

"Three hours?! Oh my God. Oh God." He dashes for his bag on the sofa, checking for his thumbdrive and cue cards. He tucks the thumbdrive back into its pocket, but keeps the cue cards. There's still time to practice.

He straightens up his tie and blazer, pushes the glasses up his nose, and clears his throat. As soon as he opens his mouth, he notices Patrick sitting on the sofa, facing him and smiling widely. "Oh, don't mind me. Just pretend I'm not here."

"No!" Brendon huffs and turns around so his back is towards Patrick. "I can't do it if you're watching me."

"You do know there will be more than one pair of eyes watching you when you're presenting, right?" Patrick's voice travels in the air, his tone amused.

"Yeah, but they're not-" Brendon turns around and gesticulating wildly to Patrick, who is having too much fun at his demise. "What? They're not me?"

"They're not laughing!"

"I'm not laughing." Patrick tells him, his face poker and all. Brendon crosses his arms and presses his lips together, staring down at the other man. Sure, Patrick's not laughing. _On the outside._

After a few seconds of staring contest, Patrick bursts into a fit of giggles, hand resting on his stomach. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Patrick…" He whines again. He really needs all the support and luck he can get. He doesn't want to fail this presentation. _He wants to graduate on time, damn it._

Patrick smiles apologetically at him and tries to get up from his seat. Brendon runs to his side and helps him, but keeps his hand on his waist. It's crazy that he can now touch Patrick whenever he wants. Kiss him whenever he wants.

In fact, he still can't believe that Patrick loves him back.

"Brendon, look, I'm going to tell you something my advisor and Pete told me when I was preparing for my final presentation." Patrick says as he places both his hands on each side of Brendon's shoulders. "It doesn't really matter if you flunked this presentation. The marks that they give you are only a minor percentage from the overalls. The only marks that matter are from your project and your advisor."

"So, if you did good on your project, and your advisor is kind, you have nothing to worry about. Trust me." Patrick slides his hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. Brendon relaxes into the touch and gives him a smile, somewhat relieved by his words. "Okay."

"Good." Patrick fixes his crooked tie and pats his chest before smiling up at him. "Now, I'll give you some privacy. I'll just be in the kitchen munching on some ice-cream if you need me."

"Thank you." Brendon breathes out, giving him a look that is a mixture of awe and grateful. Once Patrick's out of sight, he steps into the spot where Patrick had been standing earlier.

It may sound stupid, but he actually feels a burst of confidence flowing through him.

He glances at his cue cards and clears his throat for the second time in the span of ten minutes.

_"A very good afternoon to-"_

-

"Brendon, I'm scared." Patrick's voice is shaking when they pull up to a nice-looking family restaurant. Brendon turns off the engine and twists in his seat to look at a freaked out Patrick with his hands shaking, legs bouncing, tongue darting out to lick his lips and Adam's apple bobbing every few seconds.

He's never seen Patrick this nervous, really.

"Oh, would you relax?" Brendon places his hand on Patrick's thigh to calm him down. "We're just meeting my family. They're going to love you, I promise you that."

Patrick flicks his gaze to him. "H- How many people are going to be there?"

 _Eleven._ Brendon gives a high-pitched laugh and rubs his neck, and Patrick's eyes immediately widens at that. "O- Oh my God. How many are there, Brendon?"

"You have to promise not to freak out." Brendon says slowly, rubbing his thigh. Patrick grips his wrist, unconsciously tightening his hold, and Brendon winces quietly at the force. "H- How many?"

Brendon plasters on a smile on his face, hoping it can calm Patrick down to some level, but it just makes the grip around his wrist tighten. "E- Eleven?"

"Oh God." Patrick gets even more restless now. His knees are bouncing faster, eyes blinking rapidly, chest heaving with short, quick breaths, hand running through his hair, making it disheveled. He's even biting his fingernails.

Brendon quickly grabs both his hands in his and forces Patrick to look at him. "Look. It's just my parents, my siblings, my brother and sister in-law, and my nieces. They're all nice."

Patrick lets out a soft whine. "What if they don't like me?"

"They _will._ " Brendon assures him. In fact, his family has been pestering him to introduce Patrick to them for some time now, and when he finally told them that they're together, everyone gets even more happy about meeting Patrick. "Trust me, okay?"

Patrick screws his eyes shut, his short breaths gradually turning into long and deep ones, and finally opens his eyes. "O- okay. Let's do this."

"You're going to do just fine." Brendon squeezes his hand and gives him a quick peck on the lips. "Come on. Everyone's already inside."

He pulls the key out of the ignition and steps out of the car before walking to Patrick's side, opening the door and helping him out. When they enter the restaurant, he immediately notices his family sitting in the middle. It's not that hard to spot them, considering that they have a large party.

He grabs Patrick's hand and leads them to the table, and as they get closer, Patrick pulls his hand away, choosing to latch onto the back of Brendon's shirt instead, trailing and hiding behind him like a little kid. Brendon wants to laugh at the sight, but he knows that anxiety is nothing to poke fun at.

Once they reach the table, he wraps his hand around Patrick's waist, pulling him to the front beside him. His sister notices him first, and she waves to him before everyone else follows suit.

"You're here!" His mother beams and hugs him, then turns to Patrick with a smile on her face. "And you must be Patrick."

Patrick nods shyly, fingers curling into Brendon's shirt. Brendon can almost feel his nails digging into his skin. "Y- Yes, maam."

"Please, just call me Grace. And oh, you're so adorable!" She pulls him into a hug, and when they pull away, his sisters come to his side and start to gush, cooing to his stomach and asking him questions about the baby. Seeing the smile and flush on Patrick's face, Brendon drops his hand from his waist to intertwine their fingers together.

"At least let us take our seats first, please." Brendon mock complains to his mother and his sisters, who roll their eyes at him before returning to their seats. Next, he walks to his father and hugs him, and Patrick shakes his hand. He almost laughs at the look on Patrick's face when his father pulls him into a hug as well, followed by his brothers and the others. "We're a family of huggers. You don't mind that, do you?" His father barks out in laughter.

"Not at all, sir." Patrick replies with a smile, looking more at ease now. They both take their seats at the table- Patrick next to his mother, and him next to Patrick. After they make their orders, everyone engages in one giant conversation. Everything's fine so far, his family makes sure that Patrick feels welcome, and Patrick is even smiling and laughing the entire meal.

While waiting for the deserts to arrive, everyone breaks out into their own separate conversation. Patrick leans back in his chair, caressing his stomach, and Brendon squeezes his knee to get his attention. "See? Told you they're gonna love you. You have nothing to worry about." He whispers into Patrick's ear.

Patrick bites his lips and smiles, nodding. "I had a great time. Thank you."

"Everything's okay." He tells Patrick, kissing the side of his head. "We're okay."

-

As soon as the ceremony is over, Brendon quickly runs out to the field to his awaiting family, Patrick, and Pete- his long black robe flowing behind him as he crosses through the field.

"Happy graduation, Brendon." Patrick beams and pulls him for a hug, although it's a little awkward since his bump is getting in the way. Brendon laughs and hugs him from the side, feeling a small kick under his hand. "Looks like Little Bear's happy for you, too." Patrick quips.

"Thanks, Little Bear." Brendon kisses his stomach and straightens his back, turning to his parents, who immediately embrace him. "We're really proud of you, sweetie."

"It feels like just yesterday that you're learning how to walk. Look at you now…" His mother starts to tear up, and in turn, makes him tear up as well. "I'll always be your baby boy, mom."

"Mom will have her new favourite baby boy in the next couple of months." His sister laughs and throws her arms around him. "Happy graduation, B."

He turns around, his eyes flicking left and right trying to search for his friends in the crowd. He spots Pete bending down next to Patrick as he chats animatedly to the bump. Just a few feet behind them, two familiar faces come into view.

"Spencer! Dallon!" He barrels towards them with a wide grin on his face and attacks them into a group hug. "We're free!"

"For now." Spencer comments, returning his hug before pulling away to nudge Dallon on his side, and they both smirk to a direction behind him. "So, Brendon, don't you want to introduce us?"

Brendon glances nervously from over his shoulder to look at Patrick. The latter is talking about something to Pete, who shakes his head and replies back with something that makes Patrick scowl in return. They're probably bickering about TV shows again.

"Please don't say anything embarrassing in front of him." Brendon begs them and clasps both his hands in front of his chest, pulling his puppy dog look. " _Please._ I'll buy you, like, a pudding or two to keep your mouths shut."

Dallon grins, patting his shoulder, and sidesteps him to make his way to Patrick. Spencer does the same, too, smirking at him. Brendon's jaw drops.

"Patrick, right?" Dallon asks, smiling politely when Patrick notices him. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Patrick looks at him weirdly, eyebrows furrowing. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

Brendon immediately jumps and slaps his hand over Dallon's mouth when his grin got wider. Dallon grinning is equivalent to Pete grinning. It almost always results in embarrassment on his part. "Patrick, these are Dallon and Spencer. My best friends."

Patrick's eyes light up. "Oh! I'm so sorry! Hello, I'm Patrick." He grins, shaking Dallon's outstretched hand and Spencer's. Feeling something wet licking against his palm, Brendon pulls his hand away with a disgusted groan and wipes it on Dallon's robe. "That's gross."

"Spencer." His friend introduces himself, and when he sees the small hint of a smirk appearing on his face, he starts to panic. _Please don't say anything!_

"So, Patrick." Spencer begins. Brendon tries to get him to shut up, but Dallon locks his arm around his neck, preventing him to get to Spencer. Pete doesn't do anything to help, either. He just stands next to Patrick and laughs at him. "Do you know a _Drisella Kokane?_ "

Patrick shakes his head, confused, which makes Spencer's smirk grow larger. "Do you want to watch his video? Maybe you'll recognize him. He usually goes by a different name."

Brendon struggles against Dallon's hold and jumps on Spencer's back when the latter takes his phone out. "I thought you deleted that video!"

"Great blackmail material." Dallon slaps his back. "For all the times you put us through."

"Oh, dude, send it to me!" Pete interjects as he fishes his phone from his pocket. "I'll trade you with some pictures of him that I took on his twenty-first birthday at the club!"

Brendon's face grows red. He didn't know how ended up wearing a blonde wig, a skirt, and a bra over his shirt the next morning when he woke up.

"Deal." Spencer goes near Pete, showing him his phone and they both start to giggle. Brendon whines at them to stop, but Dallon just laughs at him. His gaze falls on Patrick when he realizes that the other has been quiet for some time.

Patrick is biting his lip, his eyes scanning over a row of booths selling snack and beverages on the other side of the field.

"You want something?" Brendon asks him, startling Patrick in response. Patrick looks at him sheepishly as he rubs his stomach. "There's a lemonade stand."

"Hold on. Let me get my wallet." Before Brendon runs off to get his wallet from his mother, Pete stops him. "Don't worry. It's your special day today. Go take some pictures with your friends or something. I'll deal with our penguin here."

Patrick looks flabbergasted at Pete's words. "I am _not_ a penguin!"

Pete snickers loudly as he slings his arm around Patrick's shoulders. "Go ahead and walk."

Patrick huffs in anger and shoves Pete away from him as he walks three steps forward. But, really, waddling. He's waddling.

Exactly like a penguin.

Pete lets out a loud, braying laugh and slaps his knee when he's doubling over. "Oh my God. I- I can't breathe!" He stutters out before roaring in laughter again, clutching his sides.

"Pete!" Patrick glares at him, face and tip of his ears red, and punches his shoulder. "Stop that, you asshole! I'm not a penguin!"

"But a really cute one, though." Brendon smiles innocently when Patrick pouts at him. "Screw you guys. I'm going by myself."

"W- Wait, 'Trick. I'm coming with you!" Pete giggles as Patrick waddles away from them. When the laughter dies down a little, he turns to Brendon, winking. "Happy graduation, dude. Go on, have fun with your friends. I'll take care of him."

Pete runs off after Patrick, catching up to him in no time. Brendon looks at Patrick in adoration. _How did he get so lucky?_

Laughter bubbles from his chest when Pete mimicks the way Patrick walks. And Patrick, who takes about ten seconds to notice what his best friend is doing next to him, hits him repeatedly with his balled-up fists.

The corners of his eyes crinkle with laugh lines at the sight. That's going to be carved in his memory for the rest of his life.

"Aww, look at that, Dal. Our boy's in love." Spencer comes up from behind him and rests his elbow on his shoulder. Dallon, on the other hand, rests his on top of his head. "Our boy's all grown up and having his own human on the way."

"Yeah." Brendon smiles, crossing his arms. He's in love, he's all grown up, and he's having a son on the way. Nothing can get better than those. "Spencer?"

"Yeah?"

"Delete that fucking video."

-

So far, it has been a nice day for Brendon. He woke up that morning with Patrick curled up around him, they had a nice breakfast together cooked by himself, they talked and read stories and sang to the baby, they enjoyed the kicks the baby gave, and now they're cuddling together watching tv. So, yes, it's a nice day for him.

Until there's a knock on the door.

Brendon gives him a confused look. "Did you invite anyone?"

"No," Patrick shakes his head slowly, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. "And it can't be Pete. He went back to visit his mother yesterday."

With his eight month pregnant belly, Patrick struggles to get up from the couch, but Brendon just pushes him back down gently and tells him that he'll get the door.

"Oh. Hello?" Brendon looks at the two strangers, one man and one woman, questioningly. "How may I help you?"

They stare at him with wide eyes, but the man quickly shakes his head, throwing him an apologetic look. "Sorry, I think we got the wrong place."

"No, we got the right one." The woman grins after snapping from her daze. Brendon scratches his head. _Who are they?_

"Can we come in?" The woman beams, holding onto the the man's elbow.

"Uh…" Brendon doesn't know if he should let them in. They're strangers, and with Patrick's condition, many undesirable things can happen, and Brendon's not taking any chance. "I don't think-"

"Patrick! Guess who's here!" The woman calls out in merriment. Brendon hears a loud thump from the living room, and he runs back inside to check what happens, leaving the door ajar.

Patrick, now sat on the floor, looks at Brendon in horror when Brendon kneels next to him.

"Oh my god…" Patrick whispers, and there's something with the way that Patrick is behaving that makes Brendon's blood run cold. "Patrick? What is it?"

"Patrick!" The woman cries out his name and kneels on Patrick's other side, her arms thrown around him in a hug. "Oh, you're getting so big since the last time I saw you!"

"Megan…" Patrick addresses the woman nervously. "W- what do you mean by _we_?"

The woman, Megan, slaps her hand over her mouth, and they both now have the same horrified expressions on their faces. Brendon's starting to feel scared now. _What's happening? Who's the guy earlier? What are their relations with Patrick? Why do Patrick and this Megan look afraid?_

The man clears his throat, standing tall and towering over them with his arms crossed, a deep frown marring his face. "Is there something you'd like to share with me?"

"Oh my god…" Patrick mumbles under his breath as he closes his eyes, hand reaching for Brendon's, silently asking for his help to get on his feet.

Brendon wraps his arm around Patrick's waist and helps him stand with Megan's help, and he keeps his arm there protectively. Both Patrick and Megan share a look with each other before taking a deep breath.

"K- Kevin." Patrick begins with a stutter as he leans into Brendon for some comfort, then looks at Kevin with a guilty look on his face. "I, uh. I- I'm pregnant?"

"Oh, no way." Kevin's voice drips with pure sarcasm that Brendon almost shivers from hearing it. "I thought you're hiding a balloon in there."

"There's no need to be rude about it," Patrick mutters, his lips protruded into a small pout. Then, he sighs. "Kevin, Megan, this is Brendon. The- the father of the baby."

Brendon shifts his gaze to Megan first, who smiles at him. "Hi."

He smiles back nervously, then, when he turns to Kevin, his palms become clammy under his piercing gaze. "H- hello." Brendon greets him with a stutter, but the other man only presses his lips into a thin line.

"Um, Brendon?" Patrick tugs on his shirt and looks from under his lashes. "This is Kevin and Megan. They're, uh, they're my brother and sister."

His heart rate immediately flies off the chart. _He doesn't know that Patrick has siblings._

Now he understands what Patrick felt like when he introduced him to his family.

Wanting to make a good impression, he stretches his hand out to Kevin, but is left hanging awkwardly in air when Kevin doesn't even make a motion to shake his hands. Well, at least Megan's nice to him. Megan grabs his hand and smiles. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Finally?" Kevin deadpans, looking over to the other two for explanations.

"I- I told Megan about him before." Patrick starts explaining as the atmosphere gets even more tense with each passing second. "She, um, she knew about the pregnancy, because I needed help back then."

Well, that explains why Megan looked excited at the door.

"When did you tell her?"

Patrick shuffles on his feet nervously. "The f- first month?"

"And how many months along are you now?"

"E- eight?" Patrick squeaks out, pulling Brendon and Megan closer to him. Brendon can sense the fear and the anxiety radiating from Patrick. To be honest, he feels the same way, too.

"So, let me get this straight." Kevin pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. "You told Megan about your pregnancy when you're in your first month."

"Y- yes, sir."

Kevin then turns to Megan. "And you two kept this a secret from me for _seven months?_ "

Both Megan and Patrick look down at their feet, not answering Kevin's question. If Kevin were his brother, he wouldn't answer either. He'd been in this situation with his brothers when he was a teenager. The safest way to get through this is to only keep his mouth shut.

"None of you bothered to tell me this? Seven freaking months? You told Megan, in your first month, but you couldn't tell me after? What am I? A stranger in the family?" Kevin fumes, his face becoming red with anger.

"Are you even going to tell me this? Or are you going to keep this a secret until the end of time? Is that it?"

"K- Kevin, we- we planned to tell you…" Megan says softly, clutching Patrick's hand.

"But we know you're going to get angry…" Patrick continues with an equally soft voice.

"Of course I'm going to get angry!" Kevin's voice booms throughout the apartment, and it's the most terrifying thing Brendon has ever heard. An older brother's wrath is not to be messed with.

"But I'll get over it, because you came clean! You didn't keep it a secret from me!"

The room falls into silence as Kevin takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Then, he sits on the one-seater sofa behind him while rubbing his temples. "Look, before mom and dad passed away, I promised them that I'd look after you two, and I can't do that if you keep me out of the loop." His tone now lacks the heat behind them, and is replaced with composure and patience instead.

Two audible sighs of relief are heard from Patrick and Megan, and Brendon relaxes a little. They're out of the red zone for now. That's good. The three of them sit down on the sofa- Patrick sitting between Brendon and Megan.

"But we're not kids anymore, Kevin," Patrick tells him in a gentle voice. "I'm twenty six now, I can take care of myself."

Kevin eyes him for a second. "You know those family movies that have their kids saying something like, _'I'm not a kid anymore, dad! I can make my own decision!'_ when they're just barely fifteen? Yeah, you sound like one of those kids."

Megan snickers on the other side of the couch as Patrick pouts. "You don't have to be mean about it."

"I'm your brother. That's what we do." The corner of Kevin's lip quirks upwards before he turns serious again. "Back to the original topic. How did this happen?"

"Never thought I'd live to see the day where I have to give the talk to my brother." Patrick mutters under his breath, but it's loud enough for everyone to hear him. Brendon disguises his laughter by coughing, and he covers his mouth when Kevin glares at him.

"You know what I mean." Kevin sighs, rubbing his temple.

Patrick squeezes his hand, looking at him for reassurance, and Brendon squeezes back.

"W- we met at one of Pete's parties last year. We got a little too drunk, and…" Patrick shrugs.

"Was it supposed to be a one night stand?"

"Y- yes." Patrick murmurs, looking like a child who just got caught stealing a cookie from the jar, and they both brace themselves for another outburst.

"Oh my god." Kevin mutters, frustration clear in his voice, and drags a hand down his face. "See? What did I tell you? _Barely fifteen._ "

Kevin directs his attention to Brendon, and Brendon immediately stiffens. "And how old are you?"

"T- twenty three." Brendon stutters and curses himself for it. He doesn't want to look weak and wimpy in front of Patrick's brother. That'd just make a bad impression.

"Great. A kid and a kid." Kevin sighs and shakes his head. "What a perfect match."

"Don't call him a kid." Patrick chides his brother, and everyone looks taken aback by his words, Brendon included. "He's young, sure, but he's been nothing but responsible and helpful all this time, even when he's still studying. It's bad enough that my friends call him that, so I'd appreciate it if my brother would address him by his name."

Brendon stares at Patrick in amazement. He knows that Patrick knows that he hates being called 'the kid' or 'kid', but he certainly doesn't expect that Patrick would defend him to this extent. And _in front of his own brother,_ nonetheless.

Patrick then turns to him, eyes squinted and lips curved in a smile, and laces their fingers together. Brendon smiles back at him as all the tension drains out his body. They got this. They might have started off at the wrong foot in the beginning, but this is the moment Brendon realizes that they'll always have each other's back.

"O- okay." Kevin's eyes are wide, and he just nods at Patrick's small speech. "It was a joke. I didn't know you'd take it seriously."

"Well, now that everything's all good, why don't you catch us up with your pregnancy?" Megan changes the topic before anyone can say anything, and claps her hands excitedly. "Are we going to have a niece or a nephew?"

Kevin looks genuinely interested in knowing as well. Brendon lets Patrick place their laced fingers on his stomach, and upon feeling a small kick, he exchanges a smile with Patrick before the latter answers his sister's question. "A nephew."

Megan starts to rave about it to Kevin, both seemingly looking enthusiastic, and they both get into a small debate on how to raise their nephew. Brendon relaxes completely against the sofa, and he pulls Patrick with him until his back is pressed against his chest. Patrick presses a light kiss on his jaw and looks up at him. "You okay?"

Brendon nods, stroking Patrick's stomach before looking into his blue eyes. "I'm okay. We're okay."

Patrick nods. "We're okay."

-

Brendon sings under his breath as he rifles through the fridge for something to eat. For the first time ever, their fridge is void of lemons, and Brendon never would have thought that he'd be so glad by it. Because the closer Patrick is to his due date, the worse his cravings get.

He's never hated lemons with so much passion in his life.

"What are you doing?"

He tilts his head back to see Patrick walking up to him with a curious look on his face. He closes the fridge and opens the freezer next. "Looking for something to eat."

"We have fruits."

Brendon faces him and frowns. "Fruits don't make me feel exactly full. I need more. Like, like a burger or something. Or pasta." Then, an idea strikes him. He remembers seeing some tomatoes and mushrooms earlier. "I can make a decent pasta. Do you want some?"

"You can cook?" Patrick's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and Brendon doesn't know whether to feel proud or insulted by the question. "Just simple ones. Nothing fancy."

"Well then, I'd love to taste your cooking." Patrick smiles and kisses him. Brendon smirks into the kiss and leans back against the fridge behind him. "Did you just stand on your toes to kiss me?"

The smile instantly vanishes from Patrick's face as he glowers at him. "I feel like screaming in your face right now."

Brendon's smirk gets wider, and when he opens his mouth, Patrick interrupts him with a glare. "That better not be something sexual coming out of there."

Screw it. He likes this side of Patrick. "I'll swallow."

Patrick gives him a dirty look as he steps back to make room for Brendon. "You've been hanging around Pete too much."

"That aside," Patrick changes the topic, smiling back up at him, "you know what we should do today?"

"And by _'we'_ you mean me." Brendon quirks his eyebrow at the man standing in front of him. Patrick grins. "Very clever."

Brendon shakes his head and chuckles, already knowing what Patrick wants him to do. "Let me guess. Lemons?"

"And Wendy's." Patrick's eyes light up at the brand name, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. "Full BBQ Ranch. I haven't had that in a long time now. Oh! And black licorice!"

"Sure thing." Brendon pauses. There is one thing that has been bugging him for some time now. "Can I ask a question?"

"What is it?"

"Why lemons?" Brendon blurts the question out. "I mean, when my sister was pregnant, she told me that most pregnant people usually crave for pickles and ice-creams. Lemons are rarely heard of."

He expects for Patrick to give him a scoff or an eye-roll with a _"Well, I'm not most pregnant people"_ , but instead, he receives a soft smile from him. "At our old family house, we had a small garden in our backyard. It was mostly lemons, but they were really sweet. And when my mom was pregnant with me…"

"She had those lemons?" Brendon asks, watching Patrick gently caressing his stomach. "Yeah. My dad told me that she'd drink lemonade everyday. She'd put lemons in everything she ate and drank. She just loved them so much."

Patrick chuckles softly. "So, in a way, it connects me to my mom, I guess."

After hearing Patrick's story, he suddenly doesn't harbor that much hatred towards the citrus anymore.

He tilts Patrick's chin up, noticing the slight redness in his eyes, and kisses his forehead.

When they finally have their own house later on in the future, he's going to learn how to make a garden and plant all kinds of lemons there is.

He walks into the living room to get his key and wallet. "Do you want anything else?"

"I'll call you if there's anything." Patrick beams. Brendon slides on his jacket and crouches down in front of Patrick, poking his stomach and resting his palm on it, feeling a kick. "You know, Little Bear, sometimes I think you're having too much fun giving your Mama Bear cravings. Now I have to buy them."

"Hey." Patrick's lips curl into a pout. "What happened to the _'I'll buy you any food from now on'?_ "

As if agreeing with his _Mama Bear_ , another kick is pressed against his palm. Brendon strokes the area and laughs. "Okay, okay. I'll buy them right now."

"Be good in there, okay, Little Bear?" He kisses the bump before moving upwards to kiss Patrick. "Call me if you need anything. I'll be back soon."

He locks the door behind him and makes his way to the elevator, whistling under his breath. He presses the _Down_ button, noticing that the elevator is on its way up and stopping on the floor he's on right now. The door opens, and a guy walks out, giving him a smile in greeting. He smiles in return and steps into the elevator, going down to the first floor.

There's something about the guy that makes him feel unsettled. He doesn't know what it is, but it's just there. A small voice tells him to go back up to check on Patrick in case anything happens, especially now that he's heavily pregnant. There's probably nothing, but at least it would make him feel relieved that it's just his one of his overactive imagination.

When the door opens to the first floor, he presses on the _4_ button, and waits until the door closes again. He shoves his hands in his pockets, heartbeat racing as he feels a heavy sinking feeling in his guts. He glances at the top of the elevator, watching as the number shifts from _1_ to  _2_ to  _3_ , and it seems like forever until it reaches _4._

He darts out of the elevator and quickly fishes his key out, cursing when his hand shake as he tries to get it into the slot. It takes around six tries until he finally succeeds.

He opens the door quietly, and colour immediately drains out of his face when he sees who's in the apartment.

It was the stranger earlier, who has Patrick trapped between him and the wall behind, his hand pinning both Patrick's wrists above his head, the other cradling his face. Patrick is glaring up at the guy with so much rage and hatred that if looks could kill, he would've been reduce to ashes by now. It's nowhere near the glare Patrick gave him back at the dorm and the restaurant when they first met.

"Patrick, baby. Always so feisty." The guy drawls out, smirking and teasing. Patrick spits in his face, and he lets out a grunt when the guy grasps his chin roughly. "You're going to regret doing that, baby."

"Get the hell out of my place." Patrick hisses in fury as he tries to wrench his hands away from the guy's iron grip, but the guy just holds on tighter. He traces his hand down to the hem of Patrick's shirt before disappearing underneath, and then he plasters on a sweet smile on his face.

Patrick's cries of pain shock Brendon out of his stunned state and send adrenaline rushing in his veins, and before he realizes it happening, he's already pulling the guy back by the collar and punching him in the jaw.

"Don't fucking touch him." He growls out, teeth gritting and fists shaking by his side as he takes a step in front of Patrick. His ears are pounding, and he barely hears a dull thud from behind him- too focused on this guy who just hurt Patrick.

The guy lets out a sharp laugh. "Look who it is. It's the elevator guy. Nice to meet you."

"Get out, Jason." Patrick groans out in pain from his position on the floor. Jason moves slowly towards them, a smirk painting his face, and Brendon squares his shoulders, his eyes following Jason's movements. "You heard what he said. Get the fuck out."

"Oh? That's not what he said last night."

Brendon lunges forward, fist swinging, but Jason catches his fist in his hand and twists the arm behind his back before slamming him against the wall. "Not fast enough, pretty boy."

Jason's grip is too strong for him to fight against, still, Brendon keeps struggling in his hold. Jason just laughs at him before turning to Patrick. "You're dating younger men now, baby?"

His chest burns -no,  _explodes_ \- with all degrees of anger at the pet name Jason calls Patrick. He struggles even harder, but it doesn't seem like he's budging at all.

Patrick just glares up at him as he wraps his hand protectively around his bump, baring his teeth.

"Is that the pretty boy's kid inside there?" Jason sneers, kicking lightly against Patrick's stomach. Brendon growls at the action. Once he's free, he's going to pummel this bastard down to the deepest hell. Jason yanks his hair harshly and chuckles. "Do you seriously think that's yours? Ever heard of Pete Wentz, pretty boy? I bet that's his baby in there."

"Shut the fuck up." Now it's Patrick's turn to growl. "Leave Pete out of this."

Jason makes a tsk-ed sound and sighs. "Baby-"

_"I'm not your fucking baby."_

Brendon turns his body around, but is slammed once again into the wall, arm twisted at an odd angle.

"Like I said, _baby._ We could've been happy together. But, no." Jason lets out a long sigh. "You always, _always_ had to take his side. Even now. Can't you see it, baby? Pete's unhealthy for you. You two are always dependent on each other."

"One more word out of your mouth, and I'll fucking kill you." Brendon hisses, having had enough of all the shit talking about his boyfriend and his friend.

"The only thing unhealthy here is you." Patrick snaps. "You and your fucking jealousy are the reasons why I broke up with you. You couldn't even stand seeing me and Pete in the same room together. You spread stupid rumours about him, made him look bad in front of everyone, and _invaded his privacy_  hoping that I'd leave him. Well, guess fucking what? _I will never leave Pete._ Not now, not ever. Not for anyone, and certainly not for _you_."

He pants heavily after that, and the room is filled with tense silence and heavy atmosphere. Brendon swallows down at Patrick's words and lowers his head, feeling his lungs constricting.

 _"Patrick's the most important person in my life. He_ literally _saved my life. If people have problems with him, then they have problems with me. That's why I only sleep around."_

He knows they're just friends. _Best friends._ And he believes it, too. It's just… the way they speak about each other. It's their words and their actions that contradict the statement.

Pete only sleeps around, refusing to be in a relationship, because all his exes have problems with his friendship with Patrick.

And Patrick will _never_ leave Pete, no matter what. He even made it explicitly clear.

Aren't those a little too extreme, even for them?

The silence is broken by Jason's sardonic laugh. "Judging from your expression, you're starting to have doubts about your relationship, aren't you, pretty boy?"

"B- Brendon…"

He takes a look at Patrick, his eyes red and filled with guilt and regret.

_"That's why I trust you to be with Patrick. Because I know you know that we're just friends."_

_"I do. I love you, Brendon."_

Brendon shakes his head and huffs a laugh.

"What are you laughing at, pretty boy?"

Feeling the grip loosen, he immediately turns around and lands a blow on Jason's stomach before landing another right in his nose. Jason kneels down on the floor, clutching his stomach and bleeding nose, and glares at him. "You fuck-"

Brendon only sees red as he continues to deliver punch after punch to him. He can feel something crack under his knuckles, but he ignores it. He gives him one last punch to the face and watches as Jason's body falls to the floor, knocked unconscious. He breathes heavily, doubling over on his knees, and unclenches his hands. After making sure that Jason won't wake up anytime soon, he kneels down next to Patrick, throwing his arms around him and burying his face in the crook of his neck. "Thank God you're okay."

"Y- Yeah. Are you?" Patrick hugs him back. Brendon pulls back to check for any injuries on Patrick, and when he finds none, he finally collapses, relieved and exhausted, and his hands begin to tremble.

"Brendon?"

He can hear Patrick's voice calling for him, but he can't bring himself to answer him. Can't bring himself to open his mouth.

Can't bring himself to open his eyes.

"Shit. Brendon!"

That's the last thing he hears before he blacks out.

-

_"-should be. It's been an hour."_

_"Do you want me to bring him to the police? Or I can just take care of him myself."_

_"Just get him out of my sight. I don't care what you want to do to him."_

_"Don't worry. We'll make sure he won't you bother you or Brendon ever again."_

_"Great. Thanks, Joe. Thanks, Andy."_

_Joe? Andy? What are they doing at the apartment? And take care of who?_

He blinks his eyes open blearily, expecting to see a bright white light or some sort, but instead sees a dimmed room. The front door clicks shut, and he pushes himself on his elbow trying to get up. The room starts to spin around in his eyes that he lets himself fall back again onto the soft sofa, groaning.

"Brendon?"

He opens his eyes again at the soft voice, noticing two figures in his vision. "P- Patrick?"

"C'mon, let's get you up." He murmurs and slides his arm around Brendon's shoulders, slowly getting him into a sitting position before sitting down next to him. "Do you remember what happened?"

He racks his brain trying to recall every details that he can remember, but he isn't sure if it really happened or if it was just a dream. He licks his dry lips, feeling his throat dry. "I- I remember you asking me to buy some food. And I met this guy at the elevator…"

That guy just gave off bad vibes, and he doesn't even know why.

He closes his eyes as he racks his brain once again. _That's right._ The guy seemed off, so he went back up to check on Patrick, and-

His eyes snap open. "That guy was attacking you. That's the last thing I remember. Are you okay? Did he do anything to you? How's the baby?"

"Don't worry about me. And the baby's fine. You should worry about yourself first." Patrick says softly as he hands him a glass of water.

He drinks the whole glass in one go, relishing at the relief it gives to his throat. "What happened?"

"You got into a brawl, dude."

Pete's voice comes from behind him, and he turns his head until Pete sits on the coffee table in front of him, his face filled with worry.

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "That guy knocked me out?"

"You knocked him out first, Brendon." Patrick places a hand on his back, rubbing up and down. "But you passed out soon after. I called Pete, Andy, and Joe to help get rid of Jason and move you here from the floor."

 _Jason._ So that's why he heard Joe and Andy's name earlier. "Why was I passed out?"

"One of the after effects of adrenaline rush." Pete answers him with a small smile. "That's probably why you didn't remember what happened either. I know, it sucks. Especially if this was your first fight."

He looks at the empty glass in his hands. There's one thing that sticks out the most in the haziness of the event.

_"Judging from your expression, you're starting to have doubts about your relationship, aren't you, pretty boy?"_

He's not. _He's not._

He is not doubting his relationship with Patrick, and he is not doubting Pete's friendship with Patrick. That prick was only trying to rile Patrick up about Pete, because he _knew_ Patrick would defend his best friend.

No wonder that fucker's voice sounded so calm during the entire exchange. _He'd already planned to ruin Patrick's relationship._ It doesn't matter if Patrick's with him or somebody else, he just wanted to have Patrick for himself again.

Brendon shifts in his seat and faces Patrick, grabbing both his hands and looking into his eyes. "I love you, okay? No matter what people say or do, I love you. I don't doubt us."

Patrick rests his forehead against his, smiling. "I know. I love you, too."

He closes the distance between them and cups Patrick's jaw as the other slides his hands around his neck. As the kiss deepens, he becomes even more certain of their relationship. He doesn't have to worry about anything. Those people never tried to understand the friendship Patrick has with Pete, and with just one or two rumours from jealous past lovers and the lack of trust, they're missing out on the best thing in the world.

And, hey, speaking of Pete.

"I am _literally_ right here."

"Go away, Pete." Patrick mumbles into the kiss. "You know where the door is."

"You're, like, the worst host ever. I'm the guest here."

"Pete, we're not going to stop making out just because you're here."

"You-"

" _Out,_ Pete."

_"I am the guest."_

_"And I am one second away from shoving you out the window."_

Brendon breaks the kiss and bursts into laughter as the other two continues to bicker.

He literally has nothing to worry about.

-

It's like a repeat of past events. A deja vu. One that he'll have to go through again and again until he gets it right. And each time it happens, it cuts him deeper and deeper to the core.

"Patrick…?"

Brendon sits down next to Patrick, who he found crying, just like last time, in the darkness of the bedroom. This time, Brendon believes he can get Patrick to talk to him.

Patrick rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, his breathing stuttered. "B- Brendon…"

Brendon pulls Patrick to his chest, his head resting on his shoulder. He can feel Patrick's fingers gripping on his shirt as he sobs quietly, and he rests his hand on Patrick's stomach, the other in his hair, raking through it slowly. "It's going to be okay. I'll be with you through it all."

His heart aches more and more with each sobs that escape from Patrick's throat. "I'm here. Everything will be fine," he whispers soothingly as he lifts his hand to wipe the trail of tears away from Patrick's face.

Patrick clutches his shirt tighter as his shoulders continue to shake. He's mumbling under his breath, and Brendon does a double take when he catches the words. He recognizes them as something that he'd heard Pete say before.

"I am healthy. I am happy. I am healthy. I am happy."

Patrick mumbles those words again again like a record, like he's convincing himself of being those two. Brendon brushes his hair gently, shushing him. "That's right. You're healthy. You're happy."

"N- No, I'm n- not." Patrick chokes out, shaking his head as more tears fall out. "I've worked so hard to get rid of all those weights, and now I'm- I'm heavier than I've ever been. I tried to lose some weight, but-" he's cut off with a sob, "-but I'm scared that I'd get back to my old habit."

His blood runs cold at the statement. "What old habit?"

"Patrick." Brendon's grip tightens around him as fear overtakes his body. Patrick couldn't be doing what he thought he did, could he? "What did you do?"

"Please don't be mad." Patrick whimpers against his chest, eyes squeezed shut. "Please don't be mad at me. I- I always felt guilty after I did it."

There are so many questions Brendon wants to ask him. But, right now, only one matters to him. "How many times?"

The tears stream down Patrick's face like waterfalls, and his sobs get louder. "P- Please don't be mad."

"I won't." Brendon tells him, but he doesn't loosen his grip. He forces his muscles to relax, but they tense up even more instead. "I promise. How many times have you done it, Patrick?"

"F- Five."

"Oh my God." Brendon mutters and closes his eyes. Patrick has done it five times, and he doesn't even notice anything. Not even a small sign.

Patrick drops his hands from being balled up in his shirt. "I'm sorry."

"When was the last time?"

"Brendon, please." Patrick begs him as his hand tugs desperately on his shirt again. Brendon holds his hand and repeats his question again, not realizing that his jaws are clenched the entire time. "Patrick, when was the last time you did it?"

Patrick shakes his head in frenzy, chanting _"Please"_ s and _"I'm sorry"_ s like they're the only words that he know.

He's terrified, that's for sure. Brendon takes a long, deep breath before releasing it slowly, and he repeats it until his body relaxes. He can feel his muscles aching and sore from being strained earlier.

"Patrick," he says again with a soft voice, brushing his hair. "I won't be mad, I promise. I just want to know."

Patrick's sobs gradually dies down after a few seconds of silence and the soothing gesture from Brendon. "Today. After dinner. W- When you were taking a shower."

That's why he never hears any retching sound before. Patrick must had gone to the other bathroom to do it.

Brendon pulls Patrick closer until there's no space left between them. "Why did you do it?"

"The voices told me to." Patrick says quietly, voice muffled by his shirt. "Every time I look into the mirror, they said that I look fat. That I need to lose weight before y- you leave me."

Insecurity.

The voices are the representation of Patrick's insecurities.

That's what the voices are.

"You're not fat, okay?" Brendon murmurs into his hair. With all the smiles and witty remarks that Patrick always put on, he never would've guessed that Patrick is struggling with his insecurities inside.

"You're not fat." He repeats himself. "You're carrying a life inside you. The voices are wrong. You don't need to change anything about yourself."

"What if you do leave me?" Patrick closes his eyes, dropping his head on his shoulder. "What if after the baby is born, you take him away and leave me? That's what keeps me up at night sometimes. They won't stop screaming in my head. I'm still convinced that you're only here for the baby."

He whispers out the last sentence. Brendon swallows, not sure how to answer him as his own head starts to cloud with anxiety. What if it's the other way around? What if Patrick is the one who leaves him? What if Patrick refuses to let him see their son? What if Patrick denies him of any rights to their son?

What if Patrick falls in love someone else?

He can feel the lump in his throat growing bigger with each question. "That won't happen. I promise," he says, either to Patrick or to himself, he doesn't know.

"What if I fail to raise him properly? I doubt I have enough money to buy his food and clothes while still pay my rent and bills. What if we get evicted from here? Where are we supposed to live? H- How am I supposed to give him a good home?" Patrick's voice breaks, almost like his heart. "I- I don't want to give him up to anyone, Brendon. D- Don't let anyone take him away."

Patrick buries his face in his chest, biting his lip to muffle his sobs. Brendon stares helplessly at him. Truthfully, he's never thought of all those before. About what's going to happen after the baby is born. Right now, he's taking Patrick's place at the music store until his pregnancy is over. Then, Patrick will get back to his job while he has to look for a new one. He knows how hard it is to look for one in this economy, especially if you don't have any inside connections.

His stomach starts to churn again in anxiety. Patrick's right. How are they going to live when the baby is here? Patrick's income alone is just enough to support himself and the utilities, let alone a baby and another adult.

Brendon shakes his head. Yes, he's scared, but he needs to be strong for Patrick.

"I won't let anyone take him away." He hopes his voice comes out strong and confident. The last thing Patrick needs right now is more reason to feel depressed.

He cups Patrick's face with his hands and tilts his head up, looking into his red-rimmed eyes and wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "Listen, we'll be okay. My parents will help. So is your sister. And your brother. And Pete. You're not alone in this, Patrick. I'm here with you."

"Don't worry about the baby stuffs for now. My family and your siblings sent enough clothes, bottles, and diapers that can last the baby for a couple of months. And our friends even bought some toys for him." Brendon watches as Patrick's lip tremble before he nods slowly. Patrick flicks his gaze elsewhere as his eyes start to glaze with tears again.

"What if I don't survive?"

Brendon swallows the lump down in his throat. "You can't think that."

"Promise me you'll save the baby?" Patrick looks up at him, eyes pleading.

"You _both_ will be alive." Brendon says firmly, though inside, he's already breaking. He doesn't even want to think of the possibilities that Patrick won't survive. "I'll make sure of it."

Patrick lifts his hand and rubs his eyes when they start to water again. "I hate this so much."

His chest aches at Patrick's words. "Do you hate our baby?"

"No!" Patrick has a look of terror on his face. "I will never hate him. I just… I hate-" He sighs quietly. "I hate the voices. I hate how easily they influence me. Like, any moment from now, you'll disappear, and I'll never see you again…"

"I won't leave." Brendon assures him. When he sees doubt playing across his face, he gives him a soft kiss. "Do you trust me?"

Patrick bites his lip, nodding and gazing back into his eyes. "I do."

-

_"B- Brendon…"_

Patrick's soft moans spill from his mouth with each slow thrust. His eyes are screwed shut, lips parted open, and Brendon presses their lips together, exploring the inside before he moves lower, leaving kisses and small bites down his neck and chest.

Patrick digs his fingernails into his shoulder, letting out a small gasp when he hits at the right angle. Brendon muffles his groan against Patrick's neck and squeezes their laced fingers together when he feels Patrick clench around him.

His head spins with the overwhelming sensation surrounding him. The room is getting hotter and hotter, and he won't last any longer if Patrick continues to make those sweet sounds from his mouth.

Patrick's hand slide up from his shoulder to his hair, tangling his fingers in them and tugging Brendon up to kiss him. Brendon kisses him back with as much passion and glides his hand smoothly down his side before resting on his hips.

"I- I'm close." Patrick whimpers into the kiss. Brendon pulls away from the kiss and latches onto the sensitive skin just behind his ear, eliciting a high-pitched moan from Patrick, and wraps his hand around him.

Patrick comes with a loud moan, his back arched as high as his pregnant belly allows him to, and scratches his nails down Brendon's back. That's enough to push Brendon into his own high as he squeezes their hands again, refraining himself from collapsing on top of Patrick.

He pants after he finally comes down, and he pulls out slowly before lying next to him. Patrick curls up beside him and breathes heavily against his neck, body trembling slightly. Brendon rakes his fingers through Patrick's hair and kisses the crown of his head before pulling him close.

"I love you," he murmurs softly. Patrick, still trying to catch his breath, nods in response. He runs his hand up and down Patrick's back until Patrick finally falls asleep next to him. He rolls onto his side and props himself on his elbow, brushing Patrick's bangs away from his forehead and tracing his profile lightly with his fingers.

He hopes that the voices don't chase Patrick in his sleep. As a matter of fact, he wants the voices to be gone completely. He doesn't know how long Patrick has been fighting in this war against himself, but he doesn't want Patrick to suffer anymore. At least, not alone.

He rests his head on the pillow and brushes his thumb on Patrick's knuckles lightly. It brings him back to the night they spent together at Pete's party. Neither of them remember what happened, but one way or another, it would still lead them here.

He presses another kiss on his forehead and closes his eyes, praying that this isn't a dream and that he won't wake up the next morning in his dorm with a hangover.

He also prays that Patrick won't leave the bed next morning when he wakes up. He doesn't want this to feel like a one night stand, even though he knows that's not true.

When he opens his eyes the next morning, the first thing that he sees is Patrick smiling beside him. "Hey."

Brendon chuckles and nuzzles his neck, butterflies fluttering in his chest as Patrick vibrates with laughter.

"Hey."

-

Recently, Brendon found out from Vicky on their last check-up that because Patrick's almost due, it's normal for him to rest more, sit more, and even sleep more.

Also recently, Brendon found out that if he made comments like _"You mean denning like what pregnant polar bear does?"_ and _"Hey! That means we're not_ just _the three bears, we're also the three_ polar _bears!"_  will earn him a stomp on the foot.

"You're mean." Brendon pouts when Patrick rests his legs in his lap as he lies on the sofa with a pillow propped on his back. Patrick grins and strokes his stomach. "I already said I'm sorry. I didn't know I stomped _that_ hard."

Brendon sighs as he starts to massage Patrick's ankle. They're getting more swollen, and he wonders how Patrick is able to tolerate everything every day with a smile on his face. He looks up when Patrick nudges him with his foot, giving him a confused look.

"You okay?" Patrick asks in concern. "I'd kiss you to make it all better, but I can hardly move from here."

Brendon laughs at that and leans over to kiss him. "There. I'm all better."

He turns on the television, cheering when The Jungle Book is on. "Oh, I like this movie since I was a kid!"

It's nostalgic. When he was a kid, he'd watch the movie with all his siblings. He'd sit on the floor next to his sister whereas the older ones sat on the couch. If his other sister sat behind him, she'd play with his hair and tie them with those tiny colourful hairbands, sticking them up in different places. If his brothers sat behind him, they'd dangle their legs over his shoulders, and he'd pretend that he had on the largest jetpack ever.

And if any songs came on, they'd sing together, no matter how out of pitch they were.

Now, as the song _I Wanna Be Like You_ plays on the TV, his heart just explodes with happiness when Patrick flawlessly belts out the lyrics to it with his own added flair.

That officially settles it. He's going to raise their Little Bear with Disney movies.

They giggle at the end of the song, unaware of the front door being opened.

"You guys are disgusting." Pete makes a gagging noise as he walks towards them and places a container on Patrick's stomach before settling on the other sofa. Patrick opens the container and squeals when he sees inside. Brendon peers, trying to take a look. "What is it?"

"My mom's lemon squares." Pete answers simply as he takes the remote on the coffee table, flicking through the channels. "She says hi, by the way."

"I love your mom." Patrick says through a mouthful of the snack. "Tell her I said hi back."

"Can I have one?" Brendon asks. He pouts again for the second time that day when Patrick break one of the lemon squares into half before giving it to him. "I said one, not _half._ "

"Listen, Brendon, I love you and all, but one thing that I won't share with anyone is Pete's mom's lemon squares. Not even you. Full offense."

Brendon mocks outrage and grabs one of his toes, making Patrick squeal loudly. "Brendon!"

"No couple-y shit while I'm here _please._ "

"Why are you here anyway?" Patrick asks as he takes another bite of the squares, then slaps Brendon's hand when he tries to take the container away.

"Joe's using my place to impress some chicks, so he threw me out. And now here I am." Pete props his feet up on the coffee table and sighs. "This is a really nice sofa."

"Feet off the table, Wentz." Patrick says, eyes glued to the television. Pete whines and puts his legs down. Brendon bites his lips and puts his feet on the table next, and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

"Oh, come on!" Pete whines again. Patrick shrugs as he continues to eat. "I'm totally biased. What can you do?"

"Oh!" Patrick continues and looks at both of them with a grin on his face. "Did you know that the word _bias_ comes from the French word _biais?_ "

"You and your random little trivia." Pete sighs and lifts his feet back up onto the table, resting them on top of Brendon's.

Brendon quickly perks up. "Oh, that reminds me. Do you speak French? I think I heard you speak before, but it might just be a dream."

When his question is received with silence, he looks up to see Patrick with a red face, and worry takes over his features. _Is he having a fever? Did something happen to the baby? Oh Good God, is the baby coming?_  Before he can ask if Patrick's okay, Pete breaks the silence with his loud braying laughter.

"Oh- Oh my God! Tell me you didn't!" Pete doubles over on the couch and grips the arm rest, guffawing. "Holy _shit._ I- I can't breathe!"

Brendon's confused now. "Does that mean yes?"

"Y- Yeah." Patrick stutters, face still red, and throws the pillow behind him in Pete's direction to stop him from laughing. "Shut up, Pete! You dickhead, this was your fault!"

"What's so funny?" Brendon frowns when Pete doesn't stop laughing. He calms down a few seconds later and wipes his eyes, but he still breaks out into giggles every now and then. "I'm sorry for you, dude. You missed out on the best thing _ever._ "

"Shut the fuck up, Pete." Patrick throws him the lid of the container, easily dodged by Pete.

Brendon furrows his eyebrows. "What did I miss?"

Pete turns to him with a smirk. "Patrick dirty talking in French when he's drunk."

Memories of what happened at the party come rushing to him, and Brendon stares at Patrick. " _Holy shit._ So it wasn't a dream?"

Patrick blushes and kicks him lightly. "This is why I don't go to parties."

"Nah, you don't go because you're a grump. Grump Stump." Pete grins, throwing the pillow back to Patrick. "But at least it got you a baby and boyfriend. That's pretty cool."

"Wait." Brendon interrupts them. He looks down at his lap, wondering if he should ask now or risk living in curiosity forever. _Screw it._ "How did everyone know you're pregnant?"

Patrick's mouth forms an _'o'._ "Joe and Andy are bound to know. They're our best friends."

"And Joe is afro buddies with Ray, so Ray probably found out from him." Pete continues and adds as afterthought, "He and Andy always hang out at Ray's for tattoos anyway."

"And if Ray knows, then Mikey knows." Patrick quips in.

Pete nods. "If Mikey knows, Frank knows. He can sniff gossips from five miles away."

"But Gerard didn't know?" Brendon tilts his head in confusion. "He found out when we were there for my haircut."

Patrick waves his hand. "Frank always talks his ears off about nonsensical stuff that he usually tunes him out. That's why he didn't know. He literally mutes Frank out. And Mikey isn't much of a talker."

Brendon nods, somehow able to catch up with everything. "Gabe?"

Pete gives him an obvious look. "Dude, what did I tell you? He's my second best friend."

He looks at Patrick next, one eyebrow raised. "Vicky? You're always so chatty with her whenever we go for check-ups."

"Gabe's ex." Pete interjects.

"Also my best friend." Patrick answers with a grin. "You're jealous of her, aren't you? I always see you glaring at her."

Brendon opens his mouth to defend himself, but is interrupted by Pete. "Excuse me? Your _best friend?_ "

Patrick sighs exasperatedly and rolls his eyes. "My _second_ best friend."

Pete smiles and leans back into the sofa, arms crossed at the back of his head. "You know, come to think of it, I was the one who got you two together. I should get, like, a major thank you gift from you two."

Patrick gives him a look of amusement. "I'll humour you, Pete, just because I'm feeling good today. What gift do you want?"

"Feeling good, huh?" Brendon smirks as he rubs his foot.

" _Very._ "

Pete makes another gagging noise. "Oh my God. Ew. This is so gross."

"Not as gross as the sofa you're sitting on."

Pete looks at him in suspicion. "What did you do?"

"What _didn't_ we do?" Brendon smirks as he traces a finger down the sole of Patrick's foot, earning a small giggle from the other.

"You- _ew._ " Pete pulls a face, and he moves to sit on the armrest. "No way. You're just kidding. He's kidding, right, 'Trick?"

Patrick giggles again, kicking his leg to stop Brendon from tickling him. "Would it make you sleep at night if I say yes?"

"Oh, by the way, I think there might be some stain on the armrest."

Pete quickly jumps down and throws a cushion in Brendon's direction, groaning. Brendon bursts into laughter at his disgusted expression, Patrick joining in the laughing fest as well. "Relax, Pete. He's just kidding. I spilled ice-cream the other day."

Pete's face melts with relief by Patrick's answer, but Brendon isn't done messing with Pete just yet. "Why don't you tell him what made you spill the ice-cream?"

The mischievous glint in Patrick's eyes makes Brendon snicker. He knows this is going to be _good_. "Was it the second round or the fifth round?"

" _Ew!_ I am _never_ sitting anywhere in your place ever again!"

"Hey, maybe we should do it against the door, too."

"You guys are gross. I expected this from Brendon, but not you, 'Trick."

"Payback for all the times you brought your one night stands _next to my room._ "

Pete places a hand over his heart and gasps dramatically. "I was a good roommate to you! I told you that I was bringing someone back!"

"And I told you I was sick!"

Brendon honestly doesn't get why their exes were uncomfortable if the other was in the same room. He's enjoying this so much. They're like one of those sitcoms with roommates that don't get along.

"Okay, okay! Back to what _I_ was talking about. Since I got you two together-" Pete clears his throat and rubs his hands together before speaking in a deep, growly voice. "I want the soul of your first born."

Patrick rolls his eyes. "Pizza."

"The name of your first born."

"Pizza."

"His first word."

"Pizza. Take it or leave it."

"Fine." Pete sighs, defeated. Patrick smirks and tosses him his phone. "Go nuts, Wentz. I'll pay for it."

See? Best entertaiment ever.

-

"Stop moving. M'trying to get some sleep."

"I can't!" Patrick hisses, shifting around for a few more seconds before finally giving up, huffing.

Brendon sighs, knowing he won't be able to fall back asleep if Patrick doesn't lay still anytime soon. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"The baby keeps moving." Patrick looks at him, eyebrows pulled together. "And it really hurts."

He places his hand on Patrick's stomach and massages gently, hoping that it helps to lessen the pain. When Patrick is quiet next to him, he slows his hand down gradually until it rests on the bump, and he himself starts to doze off.

"Brendon?"

He stays still and keeps quiet, pretending to be asleep. As much as he loves Patrick -and he loves Patrick _a lot_ \- but he loves sleep more.

"Brendon?"

Silent.

"Brendon, seriously, wake up. I know you're not sleeping."

Brendon grunts, burying his nose in the crook of Patrick's neck.

_"Brendon."_

"Patrick, I love you, but please for the love of God, _let me sleep._ "

"Tough luck. If I can't fall asleep, then you can't either. So _wake up._ "

"If you love me, you'll let me sleep."

"If you love me, you won't let me suffer alone from _getting kicked by your spawn._ "

Okay, Patrick wins that one. He sighs in defeat and rolls over onto his back, looking at Patrick. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Make him stop. Read a story, sing a song. I don't know."

His eyes are too tired at this time to read anything, and he doesn't want to get up from the bed just to flick on the light switch either. So, he settles on laying his head on Patrick's chest, running his hand along the bump, feeling kicks after kicks after kicks. _No wonder Patrick couldn't sleep._

He's figuring out what song to sing to the restless baby inside. Frank Sinatra would just make him even more sleepier than he already is. He needs something energetic. Something fun. Something like…

He sits up on the bed and clears his throat.

 _"Hakuna Matata_  
_What a wonderful phrase_  
_Hakuna Matata_  
_Ain't no passing craze"_

Patrick plants his face on the pillow next to him, muffling his laugh. Brendon just closes his eyes and continues to sing his heart out to the song, even quoting Timon and Pumbaa's lines in their voices.

He's not ashamed to admit that he grew up watching Disney movies. Tarzan. The Lion King. Bambi. Peter Pan. Aladdin. Just to name a few. In fact, he still has their DVDs, tucked safely under his bed back at his parents' house.

He's glad that he still keeps them. After their son is born, Brendon is going to binge watch all the movies with him every weekend until the lyrics are rooted into his brain.

The thought that him and his son will sing Disney songs and Bohemian Rhapsody together one day makes his chest blooms with warmth. Patrick will probably refuse to join singing with them, but at least Brendon knows that it will certainly bring a smile on Patrick's face if he ever feels down.

 _"It means no worries for the rest of your days_  
_It's our problem-free philosophy_  
_Hakuna Matata"_

Brendon caresses Patrick's stomach one last time when the kicks have completely stopped.

"Hakuna Matata, Little Bear. When you come out, you're gonna be spoiled and loved _so_ hard. I'll buy you anything you want in the world, and maybe your Mama Bear will kill your Papa Bear for it-" he grins up at Patrick when the latter knocks his head lightly, "-but we love you. We can't wait to see you, Little Bear."

He leans down and kisses Patrick's stomach softly. "Please come out soon."

-

Apparently, _soon_ comes soon enough. The next morning, Patrick is screaming death threats to him the entire drive to the hospital and into the room where Vicky is already waiting with a few other nurses.

He's already alerted his mother, Megan, and Pete about it, and everyone immediately rushed to the hospital after the call. His parents, along with Kevin and Megan, stayed at a nearby hotel when Patrick was due in a few days, wanting to be by his side to see the baby.

_"Fucking hell! What the fuck?! Why the fuck did you have to say that last night?! 'Please come out soon'? Who the fuck says that?! You are going nowhere near me the next time I get pregnant!"_

The first thing that Brendon perceived from an excerpt of Patrick's tirade is that Patrick _is_ capable of swearing. And, if he remembers correctly, Patrick also swore when Jason attacked them back in the apartment. It should sound scary and intimidating, because someone who is normally shy and quiet and doesn't swear suddenly starts swearing and spewing death threats is someone whom you should never mess with.

But he doesn't feel scared, though. Or the least bit intimidated.

_Because here comes the best part._

Patrick said _'next time'._

_The next time he gets pregnant._

Patrick wants to have more babies with him!

Patrick. Wants. More. Babies. With. Him.

_Him._

_Brendon Boyd Urie._

"What in the ever loving fuck are you grinning at?! Do you like watching me in fucking pain?!"

Ah, Patrick. His cute and cuddly little spitfire of an angel with a potty mouth and pretty lips to match.

"Of course not." Despite Patrick's glare, his grin stretches even wider, even though his circulation might have been cut off from his hand a minute or so ago. No matter how small Patrick is, he's got some strength in him.

"I want you to breathe, Patrick." Vicky instructs him calmly. "I'm going to put you under sedation, then we'll start the operation, okay?"

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut, focusing on the breathing technique that Vicky taught him on their last few check-ups, and replies with a weak _"Okay."_

"And Brendon, I need you to stay outside. We'll call you in after the operation is done." Vicky tell him. Brendon nods and brushes Patrick's hair, kissing him on the crown of his head. "I'll see you and Little Bear soon. I love you."

Patrick looks at him one last time, eyes dazed from being sedated, before his eyelids flutter shut. The nurses begin to wheel the bed through a door inside the room. There's a section in the hospital that is specifically for carriers- just like how there is one for pregnant women. Each room is connected to a small operating room inside to ease the baby delivery, since operation is the only way carriers can give birth.

"Please take care of them both." He pleads to Vicky just before she disappears behind the door. Vicky smiles reassuringly at him, and, in a confident voice, she says, "Don't worry. I'll make sure everything goes smoothly."

-

Pete is the first to arrive at the hospital with a bedhead and in his pajamas. Brendon pauses in his pacing to gape at his appearance. "You could spare a minute to change into something decent, you know."

Pete just waves him off as he sits down on a chair, catching his breath. "Where's Patrick?"

"Inside. Operating room." Brendon runs his hand through his hair before he resumes his pacing. "He's been there in fifteen minutes now."

"He'll be fine. Vicky's the best doctor there is."

Even with that reassurance, it still doesn't erase the fluttery feeling in his stomach. He won't stop worrying until he sees both Patrick and their baby fine and healthy and _alive_ with his eyes. His parents and Patrick's siblings are there a few minutes later, asking the same question that Pete asked him earlier. Brendon gives them the same answer.

The more time passes, the more restless Brendon feels. If he's not pacing, he's sitting down with his knees bounced. If he's not bouncing his knees, he's standing back up, fiddling with his glasses and eyeing the door to the room. Pete has to pull him down to get him to sit still, but it doesn't last long.

"Mr Urie?"

Brendon jumps at the noise, seeing a nurse by the door with a smile on her face. His heart lurches in his throat. "T- that would be me."

The nurse beams and opens the door wider. "Would you like to see your son?"

Instead of giving an answer, he bolts through the door, stopping just a few feet away from the bed. There he is. _There they are._

Patrick's propped up on the bed with a sleepy yet content look on his face, cradling _their baby_ in his arms. Patrick looks up from the baby, and upon seeing Brendon, he smiles, whispering, "Brendon, look. It's our son."

It feels like he's walking on air. Everything is too surreal. Just last year, his main goals were to graduate on time and get a decent job to pay off his student loans. Never once had he ever thought of getting a stranger -who just so happens to be a carrier- pregnant, taking his responsibility after much deliberation, falling in love with the said stranger and becoming boyfriends, and being in a hospital watching his boyfriend cradling their newborn son.

And to think that this all happened because they were drunk at Pete's party.

He sits on the bed next to Patrick and carefully takes the baby from him so as to not wake him up. He pushes the blanket aside, about to see his son for the first time.

His breath hitches.

He's small, but so perfect. There's already a mop of dark hair on his head, but his eyes are still closed. His skin is pinkish red and clean. The nurses have probably given a bath to him before they call him in.

"I wonder what eye colour he has." Patrick murmurs as he cranes his neck to look their son together. Faint footsteps are heard shuffling into the room, and Brendon glances at his parents who stand next to him. "He's here."

Brendon bites his lip and traces his finger lightly on the newborn's small palm, tears of joy beginning to pool in his eyes. "H- Hey there, Little Bear."

His voice is choked with tears. He's uttered those words a million times before, never stuttering, but this would be the first time that he does.

Because this is the first time that he's saying it _directly_ to his son.

A small drop of tear rolls down his cheek when he feels a light squeeze around his finger. He lets out a small chuckle. "Yeah. It's me, Little Bear."

He laughs a little louder when his finger is squeezed again at the nickname. "Open your eyes, Little Bear. See the world around you."

His eyelids begin to flutter, and Brendon can feel Patrick's breath brushing against his neck, the room suffocating with anticipation from everyone.

"Oh my God…" Brendon breathes out, looking into his son's pair of eyes. Patrick smiles into his shoulder. "Looks like he has your eyes, too."

"You're like a mini-me, huh, Little Bear?" He jokes and shows their son to his parents, who look at him in adoration, cooing softly.

Another tiny hand shoots up from the blanket, and Patrick grabs his hand, brushing his thumb gently on the palm. "I carried you for nine months, and this is how you repay me? By looking like your _Papa Bear?_ "

"You can't blame him. I'm adorable." Brendon smirks and kisses his cheek, earning a light shove from Patrick.

"Have you come up with any names for him yet?" His father asks.

"I like Frank." Brendon grins as the newborn grasps his finger once again, sending a rush of warmth in his chest. "Or Francis."

He looks at Patrick when the latter laughs breathlessly, eyes tired and droopy, but still shining with happiness and love. "Of course you do."

"You figured it out, huh?" Brendon quirks an eyebrow at him, tone filled with amusement. "What about you?"

Patrick shrugs, still playing with their son's hand. "I like David."

"Of course you do." Brendon smirks as he repeats what Patrick said earlier.

"David Francis has a nice ring to it." Patrick looks up at him with a smile.

"Yeah." Brendon agrees, admiring their baby. _Their_ baby. He still can't believe that he's a father now. _He has a kid._ "David Francis…" He trails off quietly, unsure. Neither of them have talked about what the baby's last name is going to be.

Patrick leans into him, head resting on his shoulder, and yawns. "David Francis Urie."

Brendon stiffens at the name and turns his head slowly to look at the man beside him. Everyone, too, seems shocked with Patrick's decision for the baby's last name. "Are- Are you sure, Patrick?"

"Yeah." Patrick grins, kissing his cheek. "You've proven yourself. And you deserved it."

It may seem like nothing big to others, but to Brendon, it means everything. He not only has a baby now, but he also has Patrick and _his trust._ His eyes begin to water again, touched, and he hands the newborn to his mother before quickly pulling Patrick into a tight embrace. "I promise I won't let you regret it."

Patrick places his hand on Brendon's back, rubbing soothingly. "I know you won't," he whispers. "I love you."

"Thank you." Brendon whispers back. "Thank you so much for giving me a chance. Thank you for letting me be a part of his life and your life."

"Thank you for finally coming to your senses." Patrick says, voice mocking, and draws a laugh out of Brendon. He pulls away from the hug and sticks his tongue out. "Well, then. Thank you for telling me about the baby and screaming in my face after."

Patrick rolls his eyes, but Brendon can see the fondness behind them. When he turns to look at the baby, the baby is already in Megan's arms- peering over her shoulder is Kevin.

"You know," Megan starts, "I'm surprised that you named him after Dad."

"Um, yeah. Sure," Patrick says hesitantly, then glares at Brendon, who is chortling behind his hand. Oh, how he wishes he can tell Megan the real reason why Patrick decided on _'David'._

"Oh. Oh my God, you _nerds._ " Pete groans loudly, attracting everyone's attention in the room. "Please tell me you didn't just name your kid after David Bowie and Frank Sinatra."

Brendon shares a look with Patrick before they both burst into giggles together. Everyone shakes their heads as a chorus _"I should've known"_ s echoes in the room.

"You should've named him something cooler, like Peter Lewis, or Lewis Kingston." Pete gently cradles David in his arms when Kevin passes the newborn to him. "Or maybe Peter Kingston. Oh, that's a good one."

"As good as The Third?" Patrick smirks at him. Pete looks up from David and shoots him a playful glare. "I'm not the one with the initials PMS for a name."

"I'm not the one with a long name and a number in it."

Brendon high-fives Patrick at his comeback. "He got you there, Pete. Sorry."

Pete lets out a long sigh before speaking to the baby. "Your parents just don't know the beauty of a name with a number."

"So, any godparents?" Kevin asks. Brendon already has a person in mind. He looks at Patrick for confirmation, but the latter seems to read his mind as he beams and nods, tangling their fingers together.

"We'd like you to be his godfather, Pete."

"R- Really?" Pete looks genuinely surprised at the request, his eyes almost glazing with tears. "Y- You want me to…?"

"Yeah. You've helped us a lot. Me, especially." Brendon laughs at his last sentence. Pete has definitely done a lot to help him, and all the money in the world can't ever repay him for his kindness. Pete had helped him to get Patrick to come to the restaurant so he could apologize to him. Pete had helped him to get Patrick to trust him first by telling him to buy something for Patrick's cravings. Pete had helped him to change his image so Patrick could notice him. Pete had helped him to clear all doubts about his friendship with Patrick.

Needless to say, Pete had helped him a lot to get him to where he is today.

Patrick lifts his head from Brendon's shoulder, smiling at his best friend. "I know it's nothing like his soul or his name, or even his first word, but that's all we can afford to give you."

Pete doesn't say anything. He just makes a small sniffle. His eyes and nose have become red, and even though Brendon already knows it, it still comforts him to see that Pete cares for their baby.

"Aww, is Petey crying?" Patrick teases in a baby voice, leaning towards Pete and poking him in the arm repeatedly. Pete laughs and rubs his eyes with one hand, looking at the baby sleeping in his arm. "Oh, hush up, Patty. One of these days, I'll kick you in the shins for that."

Patrick starts to yawn, and Brendon pulls him to his side, resting Patrick's head on his shoulder. He can tell that Patrick is trying hard to stay awake, so he brushes Patrick's hair, lightly kissing the side of his head. "Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

As Patrick finally gets his well-deserved rest, Brendon looks around at everyone in the room. His mother and Megan are standing on Pete's either side, cooing at the baby. Kevin is looking over to them, a content smile on his face.

"You did good, Brendon."

His father clasps his hand on his shoulder, his eyes glinting with pride. "You used to charm your way out of anything. Chores. Homeworks. Family gatherings." Brendon chuckles at that. He usually used them on his mom, and it worked most of the time. If it didn't, then he'd do it on his dad instead, which is guaranteed to work 100%. "But now, even when you said you two weren't together before, you took the responsibility and stayed till the end. I'm really proud of you."

Brendon looks at Patrick sleeping on his shoulder. Even though he did manage to get himself out of the responsibility, he still felt bad and guilty after. It took him a group of family at a diner to realize what he'll be missing out on.

What he really wants in life.

He didn't want to miss out on everything regarding his son. And he wanted to have his own happy family.

Now? Now, he has a _big_ part in his son's life, _and_  he even has his own little happy family.

A soft smile slowly spreads on his lips, and he nuzzles against the mop of strawberry blonde hair. "Yeah, I'm proud of myself, too."

* * *

"Oh, there's an empty table." Patrick points out as they make their way to the direction.

"Table." David echoes, his small hand fisting in Brendon's shirt. Brendon beams wide at him and pecks his cheek. "That's right, Little Bear."

When they take their seats outside, Brendon calls for the waiter to bring them a high chair. David doesn't sit still in his lap at all the entire time, always twisting around and standing up before plopping back down, only to stand back up again. Brendon lifts the menu high above his head when his son won't let go of the page they're on.

"Is this how it felt when he was inside you?"

Patrick laughs at his question and stretches in his seat. He's even casually flicking through the menu on the table. "At least he didn't kick through your innards."

Brendon makes a face at that. That has got to be painful. Painful _and_ traumatizing. "How are you still alive?"

Patrick only laughs as his answer. The same waiter finally arrives at their table with the high chair, and Brendon silently thanks him for the perfect timing. He places David into the high chair before skimming through the menu.

"Are you ready to order?"

"Do you need time?" Patrick asks him. Brendon shakes his head. He's not really a picky eater, so he doesn't take a long time to order.

"Okay." Patrick turns to the waiter, who is already prepared with a pen and a paper. "I'll just have a lemon tea, blueberry pancakes, banana smoothie, and scrambled eggs. And green tea ice-cream."

Brendon lowers the menu and quirks his eyebrow at him. "Ice-cream for breakfast?"

"But it's green tea." Patrick pouts. David makes a noise in agreement, and he juts his lip out in an identical pout, echoing what Patrick said. Though, coming from him, it sounds more like _"een tea"._

Brendon swears those pouts are going to be the death of him.

He closes the menu and places it in front of him. "I'll have blueberry pancakes, too. And orange juice."

"Will that be all?" The waiter inquires.

"Yes, thank you." Patrick smiles up at the waiter, and David repeats his words, waving at the waiter after. The waiter just laughs and waves his hand back. "That's right. Always be polite to everyone." Patrick praises the toddler and kisses his head before getting up. "I'm going to the restroom."

Out of habit, Brendon grins up at him. "Don't miss me too much."

"I'll try not to." Patrick smirks before disappearing inside the restaurant. Brendon digs out for a book from the bag that they brought everywhere to keep David occupied. It's crazy how active he is for a toddler.

Then again, his parents told him the exact same thing about him when he was the same age.

"At least you'll grow up to be adorable like me, won't you, David?" Brendon sighs, but the toddler pays zero attention to him as he begins to scribble lines in his book. "David."

Silence.

"David."

No answer.

"Frankie." He whines, using his middle name. "Are you still mad at me about the green tea thing?"

David continues to draw, oblivious to his father's laments. He may have inherited all of Brendon's physical attributes -with dark hair and big, brown eyes, his family told him that David was a splitting image of him- but everything else is all Patrick's. Namely his temper and his tendency to hold grudges, but somehow still manages to look cute and innocent through it all.

It's unfair, really.

"I'm sorry, Little Bear." He pouts, although it's nowhere near as effective as David's or Patrick's. This is ridiculous. He's the King of Pout with a capital K. He can get people to do anything with his amazing pout, but of course Patrick and David just so happen to be immune to it.

But his _Little Bear_ is not immune to the nickname though. He beams up at his father, grinning toothily. Brendon laughs and ruffles his hair. "You're so lucky you're cute."

"Boo." David points to his arm. More specifically, to _his tattoo._ He's already got two big tattoos on his arm, and even though it's not exactly a tattoo sleeve, but _holy shit._

Patrick really _does_ have a thing for tattoos.

_Really, really does._

Like, _really._

He quickly erases the thought away before it can escalate into something further. He can think more about it in their bedroom later.

But, really, he didn't know that Patrick can bend like _that._

He looks to where David is pointing and grins. "Smart boy! You're right. This colour is blue."

David claps to himself, happy that he guesses correctly, and returns back to his drawing as Brendon props his elbow on the table, gazing at his son. He's already two now, growing big and healthy every day, and Brendon couldn't be any more proud.

He's come so far since almost three years ago. They're still living at Patrick's apartment, but at least he has a job now, and they're saving up money to buy a house.

If he hadn't seen that family at the diner, he would probably live alone in a shitty apartment, ordering take-outs instead of just dining in at restaurants.

His life would be empty. Lacking something. Or rather, _someone._

"I love you, Little Bear." Brendon finds himself murmuring those words.

"And Little Bear loves you too." Patrick quips with a grin as he plops down in his seat and turns to David. "Hey, David. What are you drawing there?"

David pushes the book away and reaches his hands out for Patrick, whining. Patrick lifts him out of the high chair and into his lap, hands wrapping around his middle so he doesn't fall off. "I'm here. Don't worry."

David turns in his arms and plants his face in Patrick's chest, nestling close to him and mumbling something that sounds vaguely like _Mama Bear._ Brendon chuckles when he sees the red tint on Patrick's cheeks that appear whenever David calls him that. Which is every day.

"This is your fault, you know." Patrick mumbles as he plays with David in his lap. "Now he won't stop calling me that."

"Calling you what?"

Patrick purses his lips. "You know."

Brendon's grin widens. "No, I don't. Enlighten me."

Patrick may look embarrassed at being called _Mama Bear_ , but Brendon knows that he secretly loves it. He even caught Patrick calling himself that when he was so, _so_ confident that no one else was in the room except for him and the baby.

But Brendon decides to spare him the embarrassment and keeps the secret to himself.

Their food arrives before Patrick can answer him, and he places David back in the high chair. They take turns feeding David with the scrambled eggs, but the toddler seems to be content with the banana smoothie in front of him.

They set aside the scrambled eggs and return back to their food while chatting about random topics. When the pancakes are finished, Brendon raises his eyebrows when Patrick takes the lemon slice out of his tea and squeezes it into his ice cream before eating it happily.

His gaze travels down to Patrick's stomach. He's not sure if the small bump is from the pancakes he just ate, but…

He glances back up again to see Patrick attempting to squeeze the lemon slice for the second time, a small whine escaping the back of his throat when it doesn't give any more juice.

"Do you want to stop by at the grocery store later? Buy some lemons or something?" Brendon casually asks as he drinks his orange juice. Patrick's eyes look up at him in awe. "It's like you read my mind. And let's stop by the Wendy's too on the way back."

Brendon smiles and relaxes in his seat, watching as Patrick continue to force the juice out of the squeezed-out lemon and David draw in his book without a single care in the world.

"Anything you want, Mama Bear."

**Author's Note:**

> If you read all those in one sitting, I congratulate and applaud you lol
> 
> Leave some comments!


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